


Hellfire

by renwhit



Series: Hellfire [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Dehumanization, Gen, Grillby backstory, Medical Experimentation, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5632420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renwhit/pseuds/renwhit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is something most do not know about elementals: they are bred for war.<br/>EDIT 11/1/16: An extra scene was added close to the end of the final chapter. Think of it as a bit of a bonus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know this chapter is short, but is the only one of this length. The rest will be far longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 12/29/16: Updated to improve quality.

This is something most do not know about elementals: they are bred for war.

 

Perhaps bred is the wrong term. They have no biological family to speak of, only the mage that summons them and whichever other elementals they’re alongside in their battalion.  They are summoned, they are trained, they fight, they die or are banished back to wherever they came from. It's all they know.

 

When he was summoned, he was a young boy, healthy and strong. His flame was bright and his shoulders, not yet as broad as they would eventually be, were squared and alert.

 

His first emotion was a fierce need to protect the woman he saw before him. She was a bipedal cat, draped in deep maroon robes and exhausted from summoning him. Her rings glinted as she pointed to the wall, catching light from the few sources in the room. "Join the others."

 

He turned and saw a line of elementals, as young and strong as he. Ice, storm, water, rock, and more stood silently,  waiting for orders . They were in a tent made of heavy canvas that allowed precious little light to shine through from outside. Braziers in each corner glowed with soft purple flame. Intricate runes were drawn on the floor, with charms and other trinkets littering the outer edges. Mages stood by their individual casting circles, observing the fruits of their labor. They were all stooped, tired, and old, as if they were days from melting into dust.

 

" Elementals !" called someone he had not noticed. They were tall and broad-shouldered, weighted with polished silver armor. It was hard to see detail in the gloom, but they seemed to be covered in mottled green scales, with the shadows of wings silhouetted behind them. "You have been summoned to protect more than the mages in front of you."  More than his mage? What could be more important than the woman responsible for his existence? " You are being charged with fate of all of monsterkind . Humans refuse to allow us land that is rightfully ours, destroying peace we have maintained for eons. They wish to destroy us all. We must fight, or we will die. I refuse to let that happen."

 

The dragon before him closed their eyes and sighed, collecting their thoughts.

 

"I'm not sure why I'm telling you this.  You were created to fight, and fight you will . First, however, you must be trained. All of you, follow me."

 

Every elemental  dutifully followed them out of the heavy cloth tent. The transition from the smoky dark of it to the bright sunlight outside was nearly blinding. The scene before him was both orderly and hectic, with dozens of soldiers scurrying about to fill needed tasks. Cheerful conversations carried far on the soft breeze. The sweet smell of grass and growing things filled the air. All were unimportant compared to the presence of the soldier before him. 

 

A bored looking monster followed the group out of the tent, holding a bundle of simple tunics. The soldier observed the mild chaos before them as the elementals dressed, searching for someone. "Wind! We have more for you to train."

 

An alert elemental jogged over, appearing for all purposes like a windstorm in armor. She looked over the line before her. 

 

"Cyprus says I am to train you. I am Wind.” Her voice was like a bell, clear and high. “You will all be referred to as your element until you die or are banished. Until that happens, you will fight. I will be the one to teach you how." She turned to Cyprus, who nodded and waved a taloned hand. Looking back at the elementals, she gestured for them to follow her. She had a quiet demeanor, with a sort of unshakable focus that Flame knew he was to emulate.

 

The camp was bustling with life. Monsters rushed to and fro delivering messages, sharpening blades, fletching arrows. Young hopefuls were examined for health and strength, that they may too join the army. None of the elementals received these tests, of course.  Their only purpose was to kill. If they failed they would banished or killed themselves. Either way, it was a problem that ultimately solved itself.

 

Elementals were both powerful and expendable. The perfect soldiers .

 

The group reached a second tent, open on one side and bare expect a single row of training dummies. They halted as Wind turned back to them.

 

"Here, you will begin to learn how to channel your magic. You begin to learn what it is to be an elemental.  Our magic is more innate than any other monster, as we are both created with it and made entirely of it . Your mage will watch you train today, along with myself and Cyprus, to make sure there are no defective elementals. I would like all of you to stand in front of a dummy. When I say to begin, start attacking. Later, you will learn how to incorporate your magic with weaponry, but for now focus on summoning it and using it. There will be more precise combat training in days to come, this is simply to gauge your strength."

 

Flame turned and walked quickly to the nearest dummy. It was incredibly simple, canvas and straw in a lumpy shape. He assumed this was what humans looked like.

 

All around him, everyone attacked. Ice, a few rows down, summoned spikes of ice to drive into their target's chest. Water chose to use a single long stream to blast the dummy into the far wall. Rock pulled earth up on either side of the dummy, then brought each slab together to crush it. Each were powerful and deadly in their own right.

 

Flame considered his options. A few short blasts of fire to knock his target down? A single stream of fire to scorch it?  No, those were minor. He needed to obliterate it, to show the full depth of his capabilities. That was the point of the exercise, after all.

 

With a few instinctive gestures, he summoned a wall of pure flame in front of him. It was over six feet tall, and radiated heat. A single push, and it raced towards the target. The fire was so hot that the canvas began to smoke and curl even before it was touched.

 

The dry straw and old cloth were no match for his fire. It immediately caught, and burnt away to almost nothing in only a few moments. As soon as there was nothing left but smoldering ash,  Flame turned to seek his mage's approval .

 

Her eyes were wide. Had he done something wrong? But no, soon after she nodded and murmured to a few of her fellow mages, tail twitching. It didn't matter what she was talking about, or why she looked so surprised, perhaps even proud. If she thought Flame needed to know, she'd tell him.

 

Flame glanced at the other elementals. Most had completed their task, though a few had yet to finish entirely. Only one elemental was still struggling.

 

Mud was doing everything right. He had a solid stance and correct movements. However, his magic simply wasn't responding. Dirt swished beneath the dummy, but it wasn't powerful enough to even jostle it.  His motions got more and more erratic as time dragged on, desperate to follow the order.

 

"Mud!" called Cyprus. "Stop." Mud immediately froze, dropping his hands to his sides and straightening. Cyprus rustled their wings, thinking. "There are a few elementals here than can become strong with work. However, we don't have time to train you. Whoever summoned him, banish him back, kill him, whichever is faster. We need to move on ."

 

An sheepish looking monster formed of twisted brown vines stepped forwards. It gestured to Mud. "Remove your tunic."

 

Mud did so  without question, revealing the faint glow of  his core, a glassy orb that sustained all elementals . The mage thrust their hand into Mud's chest, grasping the core and pulling it free, all the while muttering spells. He gasped and choked, dropping to his knees. His fingers clawed into his chest, wildly hunting for something not there even as his fingers dissolved. The mage whispered one last incantation, then crushed his core in their palm.

 

Mud opened his mouth in what may have turned into a scream, but before he could release it, he dissolved into a lifeless pile of sludge.  The mage wiped off what used to be part of the elemental from their hand onto their cloak dismissively .

 

Cyprus curled their lip. "Everyone else, follow me.  We've weeded out the useless, now we make the rest of you stronger ."

 

Flame didn't bother to avoid the patch of mud on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next few after it are purposefully vague and lacking in detail. I understand if it's off putting, but I promise it's an authorial choice that will shift as the story continues!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flame learns a few things.  
> EDIT 12/29/16: Updated to improve quality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note the added tags!

Training was grueling. The only break they had was for two daily meals, and a short rest at night. No one asked for more.  What else would they do, besides train?

 

Flame took to combat well. He was atrocious with a bow, but could hold his own in hand-to-hand, and was one of the best with swords.

 

His magic still had a tendency to receive murmurs. However, the only thing he had been told by his mage was that he was "going to be successful." Success was the only thing that mattered, especially now that they would be heading into their first battle.

 

" Elementals !" called Cyprus during a swordplay exercise. All weapons were immediately lowered. Cyprus flapped their wings a little, pleased with the quick response. "A band of humans has been seen roving hills a few miles east. Probably a scouting party. They're getting far too close to this camp for comfort. Scare them off, or if need be, kill them. Let's go!"

 

Each elemental, already fitted in armor for training, picked up their chosen weapon and followed Cyprus away from the camp, Wind taking the rear.

 

Flame thought quickly as he followed.  Should they simply scare off these humans? Cyprus said only kill them if needed, but what if they were planning a surprise attack? How many humans were there in this group? With him were five other elementals, plus Cyprus and Wind. Were eight enough to win?

 

Of course they were enough to win. Cyprus had called this battle a “minor skirmish,” but it was difficult to see any confrontation with a human as minor. It didn’t matter either way - no matter how minor, Flame’s options were victory or death.

 

After a few miles of travel, Cyprus held up their hand to halt them all. "Alright, everyone. Over this next hill is where the humans are. Reports said ten were seen, but there could be more. Be prepared. We don't need to be quiet here, as the whole point of this is to scare them away, not wipe them out. Don't take unnecessary risks, it's not worth it."

 

One last glance over the squadron, then Cyprus waved them forward. Together, they raced over the hill.

 

The humans were armed, but caught off guard. They hadn't been expecting to be on the defensive. They recovered quickly, however, and rushed to meet their attackers.

 

Swords clashed and magic filled the air as the two squadrons hit. The humans were not going to be easily frightened away.

 

Flame covered his sword in fire and struck, hitting one human's helmet with the flat of his blade. The metal hissed in contact with the fire, and the human whirled. Its face was twisted in pain and rage. Flame swung again, not allowing it time to recover. It stumbled back, barely evading a blow that would have cut it across the chest. Managing to recover this time, it lunged and drove its dagger into his shoulder.

 

He easily knocked it down, surprised that it was brave enough to get into such a close range. The dagger in his shoulder was a nuisance, so he reached up and pulled it out as he planted his foot on the human's chest. Flame didn't understand the shocked look on it's face. The dagger had been painful, yes, but he could still function, so he would keep fighting. Rather than thinking about it further, he raised his own weapon.

 

"No," gasped the human. "No, please, wait-" 

 

Flame plunged his sword into the human's chest.  Some sort of strange redness came out with his blade. It stained the metal and hissed when it came in contact with his fire.

 

The human's body wasn't dissolving. Was it still alive ?

 

He heard footsteps approaching from behind. A quick glance revealed it to be another human, this one not even wearing armor beyond arm bracers. It would soon regret that.

 

F lame whirled and cut the human deeply across the middle. This time, strange chunks of flesh fell from the wound, along with more of the redness . He jerked back in disgust. Humans were incredibly messy.

 

This human had already collapsed, also refusing to dissolve. Were they really that strong?

 

He turned to observe the rest of the battle. Cyprus was flapping their wings and roaring - threat displays. Three humans were running from the hillside, two were still locked in combat, and four were on the ground. Wind knocked down the one she was fighting with with a deft kick. It scrambled backwards on the ground, then dashed off to join its companions.

 

Water had hers pinned. It was still struggling, refusing to be spared, but she wasn't attacking. Why wasn't she attacking?

 

The human freed one arm, and struck with a small knife. It almost hit, until Cyprus intervened with a powerful blow from their tail. It fell back, gasping. They stepped after it, crushing its shoulder with a boot and burying their battle axe in its back. It went still, punctuated with occasional twitches.

 

Cyprus spun to face Water, eyes narrow. "What the hell was that?"

 

"I-I don't know, I looked at it and I c-couldn't attack, I don't know why," she stammered.

 

"If I hadn't killed that thing, it's knife would've hit your core and you'd be dead! Did you want to die?"

 

Water's hands were trembling. "N-no, sir."

 

"Then next time, defend yourself." Cyprus eyed her oddly for a moment, then heaved a sigh. Placing a hand on Water's shoulder, they spoke more levelly. "I understand the desire to show mercy, but we can't always afford to. Spare them only if you're sure of your own safety. Monsters have to come first right now."

 

Cyprus turned to walk off, muttering, " And I can't afford to lose any more elementals. " They turned and waved their hand. "Come on, everyone. Back to camp."

  
  


—

  
  


By the time the familiar tents came into view, it was nearing dinner. An old turtle monster was standing by the massive low-bellied cooking pot, occasionally adding this or that to it.  With no current orders, Flame wandered over to watch.

 

The man glanced at him with a smile, then turned back to the stew. "I don't think we've met." Flame shook his head silently.  "Well, I'm Darwyn. What do I call you?"

 

"I don't have a name."

 

Darwyn turned to him, confused. "Don't have a name? What kind of poor creature doesn't have a name?"

 

"Elementals never have names. We're just referred to as our element."

 

Darwyn shook his head. "No name. S'like you're not even a person."

 

Flame tilted his head at that. He wasn't, not really. Hadn't this man ever met an elemental before?  How long had he been in the military?

 

"So, why'd you join up?" Darwyn asked. "Honor? Glory? Just trying to get out of the house?"

 

"I was created to fight," Flame said slowly. "My mage summoned me for battle, and I'll be banished when the war is over. "

 

Darwyn was openly staring. "Only to fight? Don't you do anything else?"

 

"I train." Now Flame was very confused. What else would he be doing?

 

Darwyn muttered something to himself. "Well, I'm here with my son. Gerson. He think he's gonna be some big war hero, and I thought, 'well, maybe I can help out too.' 'Cept I'm too old to fight, so I cook."

 

His son? Flame glanced at the sun sinking on the horizon, then looked back to Darwyn. Surely he didn't mean that sun.

 

Catching on to his confusion, Darwyn paused. "My son. S-O-N. My child. Any of this mean anything to you?" Flame shook his head. "Family? Parents?" Another head shake. Darwyn gave him a long look that he couldn’t quite decipher. "They don't even bother to teach you about family."

 

"They must have thought it was unnecessary."

 

"Here, let me try to explain it. You have anyone you care about?"

 

"I protect all monsters."

 

"No, beyond that. Someone really special."

 

Flame paused, brow furrowed. "I follow Cyprus's orders."

 

"No, not special like that. Special like... like when you think about protecting everyone, they're your first thought."

 

Someone special. He didn’t know many people in the first place, but he  desperately wanted to complete the request . After no small effort, someone came to him. "My mage. She created me."

 

"Exactly! She created you. She's kind of like your parent, in a way."

 

"So you summoned Gerson? I didn’t know you were a mage."

 

"No, my husband and I decided we wanted a kid, so we had Gerson."

 

"How?"

 

Darwyn coughed and pulled his head into his shell a little. "Thought I was explaining family here. So what do you think when you think of your mage?"

 

"She created me, so I protect her."

 

Darwyn's thick brows furrowed. "Hmm. Not quite like family. Not like Gerson coulda protected anyone 'til about now." He laughed a little.

 

"Couldn't protect anyone?" Flame asked incredulously. “I don’t understand.” Why would they create another thing that needed to be cared for unless it had a use?

 

"Nope! Tiny, fragile little thing for a few years. My husband and I had to take care of him. The situations he got himself into..."

 

"So," Flame said slowly, "he couldn't protect anyone then, but now he can?"

 

"Yeah, s'why he's here. Wants to save the whole damn world."

 

Flame understood now. "You created him and protected him when he was young, and in return he'll protect you when you're old!" he said triumphantly.

 

"It's not quite-," Darwyn started, but he was cut off.

 

"Darwyn!" called Cyprus. "Is dinner ready?"

 

"Jus' a few minutes, hold your horses!" Darwyn shouted back. "Guess I'll have to tell you about it another time. Run along,  kiddo , so I can finish up."

 

Flame nodded and turned back to the campfire where everyone had gathered. Cyprus glanced up at him, then tossed him a rag.

 

"You've got blood on your armor."  Blood. That must be the name of the strange liquid the humans were full of.

 

As Flame scrubbed at his leather breastplate, his mind whirred. The words  _ family _ and  _ blood _ spun in his head until, after a time, his thoughts dissolved into a comfortable emptiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super confident in my fight scenes, so feedback on those would be stellar :0


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flame falls into a routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another battle scene, so general warning for blood. Honestly, that's gonna apply for most of the rest of this fic.
> 
> EDIT 12/29/16: Updated to improve quality.

Flame's days became cyclical. When he was not training, he was fighting. When he was not fighting, he was training. His sword was alternately sticky with blood or dusty with straw.

 

Humans never dissolved into dust. Their bodies remained even after they were killed. Messy in life and death, it seemed .

 

The scrapes had all been very small scale, just attacks on scouting groups and hunting parties that came too close. After this routine day in and day out, there came a true test of the skills the elementals had been developing together.

 

"There's encampment of humans about fifteen miles to the east. We're going to raid it. According to reports, it’s likely that they have useful weapons hidden there, as well as prisoners. We want to have the element of surprise here, so listen closely." They pulled out what looked like a couple pages of notes, and a few messy sketches. "Some scouts managed to look around the place to get an idea of what to expect.

 

“There's a secondary door to the fort on the back side that leads to a mess hall. That's our entrance. Once inside, we'll break into groups. Wind'll take Rock, Ice, and Storm down to the dungeons. I, Flame, and Water'll go up to the bunks. There's a second squadron of monsters waiting to rush the front as soon as they hear signs of a fight. Everyone clear?"

 

Nods all around. Cyprus waved them forward, and they were off.

The journey passed by in a blur. Fifteen miles was dangerously close, especially for an entire fort. Apparently it had once been claimed by monsters until humans had taken over.  Flame had no thirst for vengeance, however. He was simply doing his job .

 

The fort came into view as twilight descended, washing the world in soft purple. It was surrounded by dense thickets of brambles and other fauna.

 

"Some monsters with plant magic have been secretly growing this for weeks," Cyprus whispered. "We'll use it for cover. Flame, try to keep your light down."

 

Flame dimmed himself as best he could. He'd never forgive himself if he got everyone caught.

 

They crept into the brush. Thorns and vines snagged unwary limbs, catching on any available cloth or flesh.  When they reached the back door, Flame noticed something out of the corner of his eye - a grate. He turned to peer inside. It was a waste tunnel, with a shallow stream of water in the middle and thin stone paths on either side.

 

"Flame? What the hell are you doing over there?" Cyprus whispered.

 

"I believe I've found an alternate path," Flame responded quietly. "Something that may give us an even greater element of surprise."

 

Cyprus awkwardly maneuvered around the group to see into the tunnel. "What do you want to do with a sewer?" they asked, irritated by the distraction.

 

"It comes from the fort, correct? It most likely has some kind of entrance into the fort itself."

 

Cyprus rocked back on their haunches, brow furrowed. "That makes sense, yes, but we have so little to go on," they said slowly. "You don't know for sure that there's any usable way up."

 

"We could send someone to scout," suggested Wind. "Everyone could go below so we aren't sitting out here waiting to be found, and someone could go ahead to check around."

 

Cyprus thought to themself for a moment. "Fine. Everyone down. Wind, you're quiet and have some idea what you're doing. Look around and report back."

 

Wind obediently nodded and turned toward the grate. With a great deal of caution, she eased it open. By some miracle, the hinges weren't rusted, and it opened without a sound.

She dropped down and glanced around, then turned back and waved a hand. "Come on down."

 

One by one, everyone in the squadron lowered themselves into the sewer. Flame had to awkwardly swing onto the rocky path, knowing how painful a fall right into water would be. Cyprus came down last. They sniffed the rank air, then turned to Flame with a curled lip. "Great plan. Now they'll smell us coming a mile away."

Everyone stood quietly as Wind left. No one spoke.

 

Cyprus scratched their neck. Silence.

 

They coughed. No one so much as moved.

 

"They don't even make small talk," Cyprus muttered uncomfortably to themself.

 

"No one is speaking because there is nothing to say," Flame murmured. "We speak when we need to."

 

Cyprus started at his voice. Their jaw opened, as if they were going to respond, when Wind interrupted with her return.

"Flame was right. There's a hatch up ahead. From what I could hear, it leads into the cellar."

Cyprus narrowed their eyes. "Alright. Seems as if we're scrapping my plan.  Lead on, Flame."

Flame was sure his fire had stilled in shock. "I— What?"

 

"Go ahead. Lead us. If you're so sure about giving orders and telling us what to do, then you can lead one tiny raid."

Cyprus's eyes were challenging. Flame was only puzzled, and if he was honest with himself, overwhelmed.  Lead people? Give orders? No, no he couldn't do that, he was supposed to be following, he couldn't  _ lead _ anyone.

"Cyprus." Wind's clear voice cut through Flame's thoughts.  "Forgive me, but I suggest against that.  He had a good idea, yes, but he hasn't had enough experience to lead anyone . Besides, we aren't leaders."

 

They seemed mollified. "You're right.  The thought was ridiculous. Come on, everyone." They waved to the rest of the elementals, who had watched the exchange in silence. "We're going in."

The hatch was only couple of minutes walk, though it felt longer with only the stench of humans and the whisper of water rushing along to break the silence.

Cyprus was the first to reach the trap door. "Rock, boost me." Rather than move, Rock simply pushed the ground under Cyprus upwards, creating a small step to reach the door. They hissed and almost fell over, startled. After an embarrassed ruffling of wings, they reached up and pushed up the trapdoor slightly, to peer inside the dungeon.

 

"There's no one there," they mouthed down to the rest of the group. Flame thought they did, anyway. It was hard to tell around their long, jagged teeth.

 

Cyprus leapt up first, nearly silent. They gave another quick look around, then reached down to help up the elementals.

 

Ice, Rock, Water, and Storm easily climbed up. Flame stepped forward next, and reached up. Cyprus's eyes were narrow, but they helped him up just the same. Finally, Wind came through and gently shut the door behind her.

"Well, what now, oh great tactician?" Cyprus muttered to Flame.

 

Wind placed a warning hand on their shoulder, but said nothing. They continued with a huff.

 

"Kill anyone you come across, unless they surrender to you. Water, stay here and sweep for any possible prisoners. Everyone else, stay with me, and keep quiet."

 

That was when a human chose to round the corner. It was shuffling papers, pipe in its mouth, when it halted. Stared. Stared some more. It opened its mouth to shout an alarm, when three spiked of ice appeared in its chest.

 

Cyprus rushed forwards in an instant and caught it, then lowered its body noiselessly to the ground. They nodded at Ice, then waved a hand forward. Upstairs.

 

The next floor was the mess hall. Two people sat there, both facing the door. Had they come in that way, they would have been caught immediately.

Cyprus tapped Flame and Storm on the shoulders and nodded them to the next flight of stairs. To Wind, he pointed to the small hallway off the mess hall. The message was obvious: Clear the floor.

 

The final three moved upstairs. There were rows of beds, perhaps thirty. Ten were empty, the rest full of sleeping soldiers. Flame, Storm, and Cyprus looked at each other, then went to work.

 

Flame was unsure how many he killed. He was lost in the repetition of it. It was near silent in the room, bar the occasional choke or gasp.

 

Plans were rarely seamless, and the loud clang of Storm kicking a stray helmet was a sudden and powerful reminder of that.

 

The last human in the room woke in seconds. The three monsters were frozen, caught off guard.

 

It looked around. In almost every bed was a corpse. It took a few shaky breaths, then opened its mouth. Before it could make any noise, Flame buried his sword to the hilt in its back. He jerked it out with some effort, and it slumped over.

 

There was blood all over his sword. That would be irritating to clean off. He was glad it burned off his flames, so he didn't have to worry about it on his body. Someone like Cyprus couldn't say the same, who got it stuck in their scales and under their claws almost every time they killed.

 

The three returned downstairs silently. There was nothing to be said.

 

When they reached the main floor, Wind was waiting for them. "The floor is clear," she murmured. "There weren't many humans."

 

"That's because they were all upstairs," said Cyprus, jerking a thumb behind them. "Asleep, not even a guard."

 

"Yes, it’s a very shoddy tactic," Wind mused. "The two by the door were probably meant to be the guard. They didn't expect anyone to come from the dungeon." Here she nodded to Flame with appreciation. Cyprus look like they had sat on a thistle.

 

After another moment, Water came up from the cellar. "I didn't find any prisoners, but I found these." She held out three glowing elemental cores, all intact.

 

Cyprus took them gently. "So our information was half right, anyway. Close enough. We can head back and hand these off to the mages to work with. Come on, we need to meet with the secondary troops so they know we took care of the humans.”

 

With that, they strode out the door, expectant that the elementals would follow. Of course, they did .

 

By the time they reached camp, the sun was just beginning to edge of the the horizon. Cyprus turned and stretched, yawning deeply. "All of you, get some rest. I'll deliver these to the mages."

Right as Flame turned to head to his bunk, he heard Cyprus call him back. They paused for a moment, then spoke.

" That was an... intelligent plan you had back there."

Flame said nothing. When he realized Cyprus was waiting for a response, he nodded slowly. Cyprus gave him one long, searching look.

 

"Go to sleep, Flame. I'll see you in the morning."

 

\---

 

Morning dawned bright and early with the scent of breakfast. Flame rose from where he had been resting and hurried outside — perhaps Darwyn was back again.

 

Flame found Darwyn very interesting. He talked of things that made no sense, but that sounded wonderful and strange despite it .

"Mornin'  Firey !" Darwyn crowed as soon as soon as Flame approached.  He insisted on calling Flame a different ridiculous moniker almost every time they spoke, reasoning that he could pick one he liked for a name .

 

"Hello, Darwyn," Flame greeted in return. He watched, relaxed, as Darwyn tasted the breakfast. His nose scrunched in disgust, and he added more herbs to the pot.

 

"Why do you do that?" Flame asked suddenly.

"Do what?"

 

"Try so hard to make our meals. It's only sustenance."

 

Darwyn laughed a little, shaking his head. "It's 'cause I take pride in what I do. When you fight, you do the best you can, yeah?" Flame nodded. "Well, it's the same for me when I cook. Here, lemme show you."

 

He dipped the spoon into the pot and held it out for Flame to try. "What does that taste like?"

Flame concentrated, determined to be helpful. "Nothing."

 

"Exactly! And we can't have that, Cyprus would have my shell for a shield. Now if we add some of this and that..." He trailed off, grabbing different herbs from a low table next to him, plus some diced vegetables. A cheerful whistle bounced through the air, kept in time with his stirring. After a moment, he pulled out the spoon again. "Now try it. What's it like?"

"Um... I don't know the word for it. Strong? Sharp?"

 

"The word you're looking for, friend, is spicy.  _ Rich _ . Y'know what?  Next time you come over for mealtime, I'll teach you the ropes to cooking. We all gotta have a hobby ."

 

Friend. Darwyn had called him friend. Flame had heard him use the word before, but didn't quite understand it. If it was anything like this, however, full of warm spices and easy conversation, he liked it .

 

He had a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy this chapter did not want to be written. I've got a really good bit of chapter four already done, so that one should be out soon. However, I'm a bit shaky on where exactly I want this to go (I have a general outline, it I have to work out how to get there), plus school just started today. Not sure if I'll be able to keep up the daily updates.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flame's routine is disrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy fucking shit I am so sorry for the wait. The first three chapters were so fast and then this one took. Forever. To make it up to you, it's also reeeeally long, and it has a scene I've wanted to post since the beginning!  
> Big warning for violence here, there's a lot of fight scenes.

"Flame!" called Cyprus, jogging over to him. "There's someone here who wants to meet you."

 

Flame tilted his head in confusion ,  but didn't question it . He followed Cyprus to the main tent at camp,  where tactical decisions were made. He'd never been inside . Waiting there for the two was an assortment of monsters Flame had never met. The most commanding presence in the room was a tall, thin skeleton woman.

 

Flame bowed automatically. He had no idea who she was, but with her presence and impressive armor, she had to have some sort of rank.

 

"General Helvetica," Cyprus greeted, bowing shortly.

 

"Sergeant Cyprus," she returned, then turned to Flame. She had a sharp energy about her, with no wasted movement. After studying him, she turned slightly towards the others without pausing her evaluation.

 

“You’re all dismissed. I have a private matter do discuss.” After a bit of grumbling, they filed out, leaving only her, Cyprus, and Flame.

 

There was another brief silence before Helvetica spoke again.  "This is the elemental I asked for? " Flame tried to cover his bewilderment.

 

"This is he," said Cyprus. " Though I don't know why you asked for him. "

 

She came closer, observing him. There was a scar tracing its way from eye socket to mid-forehead, deep but old. "You would be  Flame , yes?"

 

He nodded.

 

" I heard you came up with the tactics used in the raid last night. "

 

"I did. ”

 

" Why did you change the plan? " Her voice was clear and commanding.  He couldn't tell if she was angry at his insubordination or not.

 

" I only wanted to have multiple options available, so I spoke up. In the end, it was Cyprus who made the final decision "  He could feel Cyprus's eyes on him, but he keep his own on Helvetica..

 

Helvetica turned and looked at the table in front of her, regarding the map on it. She seemed to be making a decision.

 

Flame stood there, silent and still bar the flicker of his fire. Cyprus stood with him, fidgeting with their armor. Finally, she turned back to the two.

 

" I want you to help Cyprus with tactics ." Over  their loud protestations , she continued. " You're a fresh, observant pair of eyes, and I see plenty of intelligence in you. Your squadron is going to be coming to the front lines with my own, so you'll have plenty of chances there to prove to me that you are capable." With a raised brow bone, she added, " Perhaps you could even earn a rank ."

 

"May I speak to you, General?" Cyprus interrupted. "Privately?"

 

After a nod from Helvetica, Flame stepped out of the tent to wait until they’d finished. Despite that, it was easy to hear them both.

 

" An elemental ?" Cyprus hissed. " _ Really _ ?"

 

" He's obviously intelligent, " she countered. " That's unusual, and deserving of notice. I want to see where he goes with it.  If he's a hinderance, or if that one tactic was a fluke, he'll simply be demoted back to the same level as the rest of the elementals. "

 

" But to suggest a rank? That's so presumptuous- "

 

"Cyprus," she cut in. "I understand your concern, but I have made my decision. I have neither the time nor the patience to entertain every possible concern you may have  about working with an elemental. I will keep an eye on how he performs, and you will work with him for as long as I tell you to. Do you have any more objections?"

 

Cyprus said nothing in response.

 

"Good." With that, she brusquely pushed back into the tent. Flame hadn't moved from where he was standing, but his mind was racing. Should he be upset that Cyprus didn't want to work with him? But no, that wasn’t it. It felt more like the day he was summoned, when they’d demonstrated their abilities for their mages and Cyprus. Rather than the drive that came with battles and training, it was a desperate need to prove himself.

 

"Both of you, come here," Helvetica called, crossing to the map. "This is where we are," she said, tapping a spot close to the foot of Mount Ebott. The bone of her fingertip made a soft click as it met the hard table. "This is where most of the fighting is going on." She pointed to a line drawn a few inches away. "We're making headway down south, claiming more land, but the western front is falling back. I've going to different training camps to collect fresh soldiers for the front so we can bolster that line."

 

Cyprus's brow furrowed. "So we're just driving them out?"

 

Helvetica nodded. "Some troops are driving away humans, others are defending the monster settlements we still have."

 

"And we'll be on the offensive?"

 

"Obviously.  Elementals are incredibly destructive, they'd be wasted on defense. " She turned to Flame. "Anything to add?" He shook his head.

 

Cyprus shot her a look, as if to say 'see?' He felt himself spark a little at that. "I'll need a better idea of what exactly the battles look like in order to provide any tactical aid."

 

Helvetica nodded. "Tell your people to pack up the camp," she said to Cyprus. "We leave at sundown."

 

\---

  
  


The journey to the front lines was, in a word, uneventful. The low hills and flat plains provided little challenge for any of the soldiers,  both monster and elementa l. Flame hadn't spoken to any of the new members of his squadron, but he had closely observed them. There was another dragon monster like Cyprus, as well as slime, demon, plant, and an assortment of bipedal animals. There weren't any other elementals beyond the ones Flame already knew.

 

One of the animals Flame vaguely recognized. He remembered that Darwyn had once pointed him out as his son, Gerson. He had the same pattern to his shell, though Darwyn's was much more weathered. Darwyn himself had stayed behind rather than travel with them.

 

"I'm too old to be on the front," he’d said, clapping Flame on the shoulder. "I'll be heading back to the defensive encampments to cook for them. Didn't get to teach you as much as I would'a wanted, but maybe you can still throw some stuff together for your fellows, eh?"  Flame wasn't sure why, but his chest ached at Darwyn's absence .

 

By the time they stopped, the moon was high in the sky. Flame could see distant fires from other camps of monsters in the distance, and knew he was probably shining just as bright. Stars glinted high in the sky, the only lights in the wide black expanse.

 

Helvetica came up next to him. Together, they observed the valley. After a moment, she turned to him. "I'm assuming you can flare brighter at will?" Flame nodded. "I need you to send a message. Give one long flare, two short ones, and another long one."

 

He did so. Almost every fire in the distance flared back, one long bright shine.  Flame turned to Helvetica curiously .

 

"It's a code. Each leader has their own pattern to let other troops know when they've arrived. Their response means they received my message and will be expecting us sometime tomorrow. For now, however, we make camp for the rest of the night.

 

Turning back, he could see everyone settling, pitching small tents and starting up campfires.  He went to join Cyprus at one, who was sitting and staring at the flames. They glanced up as him warily, but seemed far too tired to show the animosity from earlier . A few other soldiers from Helvetica's battalion joined them as Flame watched Cyprus.  He hadn't realized it before, but Cyprus seemed to radiate exhaustion. How many battles had they seen before falling back to train elementals? They didn't seem eager to rejoin the offensive .

 

Flame was so lost in thought, he was startled when Cyprus began to sing.

 

Their voice was soft, and slow. Melancholy. They sang of mountains, and snow, and family. They sang of fire, and loss, and desolation. It was lonely, and full of longing.  Flame ached for something he felt he was missing, something he had never known. Smoke curled up from the fire and twisted around the stars.

 

Cyprus began a second verse and, picking up the tune, Flame hummed along. They looked at him out of the corner of their eye, but kept singing. One monster began to tap out the beat on the ground in front of her. Another hummed with Flame. Cyprus kept singing, voice swelling, but still desperate and full of regret.

 

Slowly, slowly, their voice faded from the night air.  Flame wanted to keep humming, wanted the moment to last, this feeling of bittersweet union with the people around him, but he knew it was gone . Cyprus returned to staring at the fire, as if it held the key to all the things they longed for in their song. Other monsters kept up the music, but neither Cyprus nor Flame spoke another word.

 

\---

  
  


The next day dawned with monsters rushing about. Flame woke up just as the sun rose, but unlike most days, he wasn’t one of the first awake.. Soldiers ran to and fro to pack up the makeshift camps, kicking dirt over still-smoldering embers and breaking down tents. Cyprus directed everyone around, wings drooping and tail dragging.  Flame wondered if they had gotten any sleep that night .

 

Once everything was packed up, Helvetica glanced over the group, then waved them forward. They were moving.

 

The sun rose high in the sky as they traveled. The sky was cloudless and the air was clean and sweet.

 

Helvetica maneuvered between people to walk next to Cyprus. She looked back to Flame and gestured him over as well.  Together, they walked in front of the battalion, Helvetica leading with Cyprus and Flame just barely trailing behind .

 

"I wanted to run something by the two of you. We're attempting to gain ground in the west. How would you suggest we keep the humans from wanting to come back to land we've claimed?

 

There was a pause as the two thought hard. Finally, Cyprus spoke up. "Destroy their villages."

 

"Why?"

 

"If they don't have homes or things to come back to, it would hurt their soldiers morale, since they'd be fighting for a concept rather than any physical things."

 

"How would you suggest we do that? We don't have the manpower to break down houses."

 

They fell silent.  Flame, however, had an idea. "Burn it."

 

Helvetica tilted her head towards him, inviting him to continue. "Cyprus is right, destroying their villages will ruin their morale.  I am a powerful elemental," he added. "With the aid of Wind and a short rest after, I can burn a village. Not only that, we should burn their fields and crops. Make the land useless to them, so they're even less likely to fight for land they can't even use ."

 

Helvetica nodded. "That seems like an efficient plan. At the next town we come across, I'd like you to put it in to action."

 

Cyprus glanced at Flame, then nodded.  It seemed like they had calmed down from their initial protests, and were more willing to work with him .

 

After another hour or so, they reached the large encampments he had seen last night. It reminded him of the camp where he had been summoned and trained, with monsters bustling about to and fro, delivering messages and polishing armor. However, it was on a much grander scale. There had to be ten times the number of monsters at this camp than his first.

 

"General!" called an incredibly large white dog monster as it jogged over.

 

"Greatest Dog," she greeted. "Do you have a message for me?"

 

He bowed first, then spoke. "You've arrived just in time. At sundown, we're going to be moving forward to attack a nearby town. It's small, but an important stop for many trade routes. Hopefully, if we capture it, we can disrupt messages and supply deliveries."

 

"Do we need the town for our own use?"

 

"Not particularly. It's less that we need it, and more that we don't want them to have it."

 

Helvetica nodded and dismissed him. She turned to Cyprus and Flame. "Well, it seems you'll get your chance sooner than I thought you would. Tell your soldiers to get some rest. Be ready to leave in eight hours."

 

\---

 

Flame had already been awake for about an hour when everyone else had gotten up.  To him, sleeping was mostly a waste of time. He rested just as much as he needed, no more. With that extra time, he focused on building his magic reserves, keeping it humming and ready in his fingertips. He had no idea how large this town was going to be, so he needed to be prepared .

 

Once everyone was gathered, Cyprus turned to them, Flame at his side. "Flame, Wind, it seems you'll be doing most of the work here. Everyone else, you'll be drawing away soldiers from the town so Flame and Wind can raze it. Start an initial attack, but back off quickly. Draw them south. Flame, the wind is blowing north, so make sure to stand upwind." Flame didn't even bother to nod at that. He knew how to control his own fire. "Is everyone clear?"

 

Monsters smacked shields and waved weapons in response. Flame saw Gerson haul a heavy-looking warhammer over his shell, shouting with his fellows. Cyprus roared right along with them, encouraging the aggressive din. Flame kept silent next to Wind, but he could feel the elation of the crowd. He felt powerful, and brave, and ready for anything. With one final flap of their wings, Cyprus turned and lead them out of camp.

 

Somehow, he ended up next to Gerson. His powerful arms and heavy armor contrasted his round face, and Flame could see how young he was. Flame had no idea how old he himself was, only that he had been in training for a while. Months? Years? It was the same thing over and over, it all melded together.

 

Flame was startled out of his thoughts when Gerson spoke up.

 

"You that elemental my dad wrote about?"

 

He nodded. Darwyn didn't really talk to the other elementals, so it was most likely him.

 

"Heh. Quiet type, eh? That's what he said in his letters. Said you liked to cook, too."

 

"Darwyn taught me. We were friends."

 

Gerson glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.  "Didn't know elementals had friends."

 

Flame went silent at that. He was right, elementals didn't generally form relationships beyond soldier and leader. But then what would he call Darwyn? Wind? Even Cyprus, on the right days? He felt himself spark, almost nervous. Was he doing something wrong?

 

Gerson held up a hand placatingly. "S'alright that you were friends.  Just unusual, is all. That's not a bad thing ."

 

They were both quiet, but it was companionable rather than uncomfortable. Together they walked for miles, sun sinking low on the horizon.

 

Finally, just as the moon was beginning to rise in the sky, the town came into view. It seemed busy even into the night, with carts rolling in and out and soldiers patrolling every side. Human crawled over every building like insects, constantly in motion.

 

Cyprus turned back to the army. "We gave them a chance to surrender. They knew we would attack soon, as we wanted to give them time to evacuate the elderly and children. We gave them that opportunity, but look. They're so proud and conceited, the don't even bother to keep their own safe." They were right; looking closely Flame could see children playing right on the edge of town. "We're going to make sure they regret not taking us seriously. They had their chance. Now, all they have is us. Remember the plan. Let's go!"

 

They charged, wings spread wide. The army roared and raced after them. Flame allowed himself to fall back, Wind at his side. As they ran, she spoke. "Are you ready?"

 

He didn't respond. He needed to save energy.

 

The human soldiers shouted in shock when the monsters came close to the town. They seemed to be made of nothing but shadows in the dark, then thrown into deep contrast by the town's torches. Flame watched as they attacked, fierce and angry. Humans fell and monsters turned to dust,  but no one paused to mourn them. Quickly, the monsters began to draw away, not letting up on their attack, but simply moving it. As planned, the humans followed, most likely trying to make up for their surprise earlier. This was Flame's chance.

 

He turned to Wind. "I'm counting on you to defend me if needed."

 

"Of course."  He trusted her .

 

Flame turned back to the village. The thatched roofs and dry wood walls of the houses would catch easily, but the stone common areas may be more difficult. He didn't doubt himself, though. He could feel the magic he had been gathering the entire day boiling in his chest and hands, and with a long, deep breath, he let it go.

 

A huge wall of flame, three times his height and four times as wide, roared into being. Tongues of fire licked at the stars. Slowly, slowly, he walked forward, pushing the wall in front of him. Everything within ten yards caught, and continued to burn as he went past it. Humans screamed and ran as he approached. They raced out of houses in droves, like cockroaches. Some screamed, some cried, some tried to attack him. Wind hit each with a gust of air, blowing them into building walls and fire. She used the force from their bodies to collapse buildings that were weakened by his fire, crushing them under wood and ash. The few that managed to dodge her powerful magic were quickly dispatched by her sword.

 

Something sickly sweet and metallic filled the air as he continued onwards. The air was boiling with heat and fire lit the night sky. The few humans that were left choked on smoke and ash, collapsing without the flame even having to touch them. He wondered how many humans there were in this village. He wondered how many were still alive.

 

A child ran into his path, sobbing. It saw him and backpedaled wildly, tripping over its own feet. He continued over it as it shook, and soon, burned. Something inside him twisted at that, for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. It didn’t matter, he told himself. He needed to focus.

 

As he was getting to the edge of town, he could feel his magic flickering. His reserves were running low. Hopefully as he did this more his stamina would increase, but for now he was struggling.

 

"Need help?" He heard Wind call. He nodded, breathless and exhausted. She slashed her hand through the air, and a strong breeze blew waves of sparks onto the few untouched buildings, fanning the flames that were already there.

 

Everything was burning.

Finally, finally, he made it to the other edge of town. His arms fell from holding up the wall of flame and he stumbled, falling to his knees. He let himself collapse down to all fours, only somewhat aware of the grass shriveling and dying beneath his hands. A sort of hollow emptiness rang through him and his chest heaved. It was as if every bit of strength had been wrung from his body. He could feel a cool touch on his arm as Wind helped him sit up in the grass. A slight breeze brushed his face and his breath came a little easier, but that total exhaustion prevented him from showing his gratitude.

 

Together, they watched the buildings crumble. Fire cracked and hissed along rooftops, destroying all it touched. Blackened bodies filled the streets, some half in houses, some clutching weapons or supplies or other humans.

 

Flame watched for what couldn’t have been more than a few minutes when someone came up behind him. Looking back he saw Cyprus, still clutching a reddened battle axe. Their eyes were round and their jaw was just slightly opened.

 

"You... You did all this?"

 

He only nodded, still breathing hard. Rather trying to speak, he just gestured to Wind. Her aid had been invaluable. 

 

Wind shook her head. "I mostly defended him. I only had to aid the fire in the very end."

 

The three of them watched the fire for just a moment longer. Flame could hear a high pitched wail ringing over the harsh roar of Flame’s destruction. Smoke curled around the moon. Cyprus closed their eyes for a moment as their lips moved without sound, as if in prayer. They finally sheathed their axe and held out a hand to Flame. "Come on. Let's get back to camp."

 

\---

 

When they reached camp, Helvetica was waiting for them. Flame felt dead on his feet, but did his best to bow respectfully anyway.

 

"I saw the smoke. You succeeded?"

 

Cyprus nodded. "The town is destroyed, and everyone that lived, ran. It was... I need to speak with you."

Helvetica tilted her head in confusion, but nodded. She gestured for Flame to follow as well. Before she left, she turned to the rest of the soldiers. "All of you, get some rest. You did very well tonight."

 

With that, the three went to the main tent at the camp. "How many casualties on our side?"

 

"Seven. I'll give you names later. What I wanted to talk about was-"

 

She cut him off. "Wait until we're somewhere private."

 

Flame pondered what could be so urgent that Cyprus needed to immediately discuss it with Helvetica. He was gratified that she had wanted him present as well, though.  He couldn't deny that he appreciated her interest in his input.

 

When they reached the tent, Helvetica turned to Cyprus, inviting him to speak.

 

"In the battle last night, Flame insisted he could burn down the entire village on his own. In all honestly, I didn't believe he could. Elementals are powerful, yes, but that’s a huge undertaking. We led the guards away, and he stayed there. Wind was with him, so I thought, maybe. We led the soldiers and guards away, beat them down, when people started running from town in droves. The whole thing was burning. The soldiers saw that, they saw their families running from town, and some ran too. Others got angrier and attacked again, but they lost half their guard. They didn't stand a chance. We went back, and there was Flame, sitting and watching. Wind was next to him. When I talked to them,  she said that he had destroyed the whole thing almost entirely his own. He didn't rest until he was finished . Wind just had to fan the flames a little, but other than that she just defended him and knocked down a few buildings he had weakened. It was incredible.  That power, plus his skill with a sword, he's an asset we shouldn't waste. He needs to be in larger battles, rather than the skirmishes that I've been putting him in. "

 

Flame was perplexed. Was it really that impressive? He'd only been doing his duty.

 

Helvetica turned to him. "I'm going to look at the remains of the town tomorrow, to try and get an idea of just how extensive the damage is. After, you and I will go to some fields and burn those. I want you to show off when we do, so I can see how strong you really are. We'll see what happens from there, yes?"

 

The two bowed in acknowledgement and left. As soon as they were outside, Flame turned to Cyprus.  "Why did you do that?"

 

"Why?  Because you'd be much more useful in large-scale battles than here! Yes, that was technically an offensive, front-line fight, but it was still small, and low stakes. There's a major difference between town guards clashing against a small battalion versus two organized armies against each other in a necessary batte. We need powerful, aggressive fighters like you in the latter."

 

Flame nodded.  That made sense; it was simply a matter of usefulness.

 

\---

 

The next day, Helvetia woke him early. "I'd like to do this quickly, I have a lot to get done. Our scouts have seen a band of humans approaching from the west that we'll have to meet the day after tomorrow, and I need time to prepare everyone for that."

 

Flame rose and dressed quickly.  He didn't want to be a hindrance.

 

The journey was much faster and easier with only two people. Helvetica's stamina seemed limitless; she wasn't even breathless by the time the reached the burned-out shell that was once a bustling town. Together, they walked through ash and charcoal. Things crunched beneath their feet, but it was near impossible to tell the difference between what was once wood or flesh. Helvetica's jaw clenched when she noticed one body curled around another, slightly smaller one. The larger held a tarnished sword.

 

Flame tilted his head. "Are you alright?"

 

“Yes,. I was only distracted by some personal memories.” She stood. "I've seen enough. This is... certainly impressive. Let's stop at the fields, then head back."

 

The farms were a close walk, perhaps five minutes. Rows upon rows of grains and vegetables waved gently in the wind.

 

Helvetica gestured to him. "Whenever you're ready."

 

Normally, dry grains would barely require any power. They'd go up like kindling in a matter of moments. However, she had told him to show off. He took a moment to gather his magic in palms and chest, then began.

 

First, another wall, not quite as large as the one last night. Rather than walking with it, he shoved it, and it blazed a path through the field, leaving a swath of scorched grasses behind it.

 

As it fizzled and faded, he turned and shot jets of flame to the far corners of the fields. They burst into huge pillars, catching easily on the grain. The fire swept across the field, hungrily devouring everything it touched. After only moments, the entire field was nothing but a smoldering patch of black. Useless.

 

Helvetica had observed all this silently. When he looked to her as the fires died, she nodded sharply. "I see what Cyprus meant. You'll be joining my battalion the day after tomorrow at dawn to meet the humans. Get some rest when we get back to camp, I want you to be ready to fight."

 

\---

 

The next two days passed incredibly quickly.  Flame filled his time with honing his swordplay, and cooking for his squadron. So far, no one had complained about his food. He doubted it was as excellent as Darwyn's rich fare, but it was certainly better tasting than the dry rations simply meant to keep you sustained until the next battle .

 

When Helvetica called everyone together to explain the plan, Flame was almost surprised. It didn't feel like it had already been two days.

 

"The humans are approaching quickly from the west. We'll be going out to meet them soon. They think they can break our line here, but they're weak. We can easily crush them. I want a line of swordsman and other close combat fighters in front, then archers in the back to pick off stragglers. It's a straightforward plan, but this is a straightforward fight. Be wary of the humans, however, as they're not above trickery. Keep your eyes peeled. Now, are you all ready to add another victory under your belts?"

 

There was a collective roar of approval.  This time, Flame couldn't help but join in. He waved his flaming sword in the air with a rush of adrenaline , and across the crowd, he could see Gerson doing the same with his war hammer. Helvetica swept onto a skeletal horse, waved a cavalry sword in the air to collect everyone, and led them off.

 

Flame hadn't realized how much mindless travel these fights would require. Luckily, he was good at getting lost in thought. His mind drifted until the battalion stopped. Looking back, he could see the arches had stopped a little ways back, bows at the ready. Forward, and there were the humans, charging in a wild horde.

 

Helvetica raised her sword. Behind her, every monster got into formation: one row in front with interlocking shields, and rows behind of monsters without shields.

 

The humans shrieked as they grew closer. Flame narrowed his eyes and braced himself.

 

The mob hit in a tangled mass. The monster line was pushed back, but didn't break. It held, until Helvetica moved. She must have tired of watching her front line of soldiers accept the beating and not being able to do anything. She charged on horseback to the line of shields, and, with a single impressive leap from her horse, leapt over it, crushing two humans under her mount's hooves.

 

With that, the true battle began.

 

Human blade and monster magic crashed together in what seemed like a single ringing din. Flame ran fire down his sword, and charged.

 

It reminded him of his first fight. The blood, the noise, the constant motion of it all. Every time he struck down one human, another appeared. He didn't even bother trying to count the number of humans that he killed, it would be a waste of energy. He set one after another alight, and when his magic got low, he raised his blade and cut them down with that.  It felt endless, like his life had become nothing but blood and flames and screams and roars .

 

At one point, he struck one human across the throat, only to turn and see one coming with a blade pointed right to his core. Before he could even think to react, Gerson appeared, driving his war hammer into its stomach. It fell, choking. Flame nodded in thanks, and he back, and together they dove back into the fight.

 

Time seemed to jump and skip. He was fighting back to back with Wind, sending blasts of air and flame at distant archers. He was defending Cyprus, as they caught their breath after a brutal hit to the chest. He was next to Helvetica, working their swords in deadly tandem. He was alone, casting a wave of fire towards the retreating back of the human.

 

Retreating. The humans were running away.

 

Helvetica held up her sword one last time. Monsters roared and cheered as the humans ran. Flame couldn't help but take pride in the number that were covered in burns. In the rush of victory, monsters clapped each other's backs, and shook their weapons high in the air. Cyprus roared, long and incredibly loud. Flame felt as if monster kind was unstoppable.

 

\---

 

That feeling lasted for weeks. With many more successful battles behind him, plus more villages razed, he felt unstoppable. He wasn't sure why humans thought they could win. Human flesh and sinew against pure magic? Sometimes, Flame thought humans were too determined for their own good.

 

Eventually, as the front line moved forward, Helvetica pulled him aside.

 

"This is incredibly unprecedented, but I feel it's necessary. You've proven yourself many times over, and deserve to be more than a common foot soldier." She paused, but Flame only quietly waited for her to continue. He thought he knew what she might be saying, but he wanted to hear her say the words herself. "I want to give you a rank. Sergeant, equal to Cyprus. You've been working so closely with them, and at this point have seen almost as many battles, it's only right."

 

He nodded, somewhat stupefied.  Had an elemental ever held rank before?

 

"Sergeant Flame. I like how that sounds," she commented as she dismissed him.

 

In the end, however, it didn't change much. He still helped with tactics, but generally deferred to Cyprus. Even if they were technically on the same level, people were more likely to listen to a monster .

 

Flame spent a lot of time in battle with Wind. She complimented his fire well, much better than the other elementals such as Water or Ice would. When not on the battlefield, he spent most of his time planning with Cyprus and Helvetica, or training with the other soldiers, or even cooking. Every once in a while, they'd sit around a campfire and Cyprus would sing that same slow, lonely song as before. Many knew the words, but none sang along. Somehow, the song felt too intimate, too close to Cyprus to ever share in it that closely. Instead, they sang, and the others hummed, or tapped the beat, or else just listened.  That achy, longing feeling Flame first felt when hearing it never faded .

 

\---

 

One day, Helvetica collected Wind and Flame to speak to them. "A few miles north, there are quite a few large agricultural fields that are very important to the humans. Normally, there are patrols around the area because of how we've been burning so many fields, but yesterday most of them left on what seems to be a hunting trip. I want you to get in, set it alight, and get out, so the guards at the nearest village won't notice you until it's too late. I'm sure you two can handle it. Do you think you'll need any more guards?"

 

Both shook their heads. They were strong, capable warriors, and if most of the guards were gone as Helvetica said they were, it should be an incredibly easy mission.

 

"We'll be fine," said Wind. "Expect us back before dinner."

 

"Good. I'd much rather eat Flame's cooking than those awful rations," said Helvetica. Flame laughed quietly at that, flattered .

 

Together, he and Wind set off.

 

The journey there was short and easy. Low hills dotted with trees were all that stood between the elementals and their goal.

 

Once they arrived, it was obvious why this place was guarded. Rather than being one large field, it was a wide assortment of many, each with a huge number of crops on it. This place could feed an army.

 

Flame took a deep breath, readied his magic, and went to work.

 

Wind didn't have to do much, simply kept an eye out as they went from field to field. Occasionally, she stared intently at a few of the distant copses of trees as if she saw something, but nothing ever revealed itself. Flame didn’t pay her much mind. If she thought there was a problem, she would tell him. This work required all his concentration due to the sheer amount of magic he had to expend, so he didn’t have the spare focus to think about what could be bothering her. They slowly made their way across the fields until they were at the last one, by the copses.

 

"Do you need to rest?" asked Wind. His arms were shaky, but he shook his head. They were so close to being finished, why wait? He lifted his hands, when Wind gasped.

 

There were too many humans. Gods, there were too many, coming from all sides, bleeding from between the trees. Flame was weary from his destructive path, and could barely muster the energy to stand. Wind stood beside him, radiating hopelessness. She observed the crowd, all armed to the teeth and baying for dust.

 

It was a trap. They knew he was going to come here, and they were waiting for him.

 

"I don't know if we can win here, Flame," she stated calmly, but her words were hollow.

 

Flame turned to her and tilted his head down to meet the small white lights of her eyes. "I am not going to die on this hill, on a minor outing. I should hope you feel the same way."

 

She straightened to meet him, pressing their foreheads together. After a few deep breaths, she said, "Alright. I have a plan, but it's not a great one."

 

"Any plan is better than none."

 

"Of course. We need to let them get close. I'll use the strongest wind I can muster to knock them all down. You use your flames to set them all alight, and I'll use more winds to make sure it catches. Then we wait for them to die. It'll be exhausting, and I don't even know if we've got enough energy to pull it off, but it's the only way I see to take them all out at once. If it gets to melee combat, we won’t survive."

 

"How close do they need to get?"

 

"Preferably close enough to see the whites of their eyes. Closer than I'd like."

 

Flame simply nodded. There was nothing else to be said.

 

They turned back to back. Flame drew his sword to help channel his magic, Wind readied her hands.

 

The humans were close enough that Flame was sure he could smell them. That was the thing about humans: they stank. Their physical bodies collected dirt and grime like froggits did flies. Their stench was the warning that a human was close.

 

That stench now filled the air as the humans grew ever closer. Sweat, dirt, dust, and under it all, blood. Their blood was the prize Flame sought.

 

Closer still. He could see their rusty weapons, ill-fitting armor, rotted teeth. "Wind?" he called over the din of their aggressive screams.

 

"Not yet!" she shouted back.

 

They were within fifteen yards.

 

"Wind?"

 

"A little longer!"

 

Five yards.

 

" _ Wind! _ "

 

"Now!"

 

Together, they spun. Wind attacked first, buffeting them with gusts of her magic and causing them to all trip and fall, shouting in surprise.

 

Next was his turn. He used his sword as a channel for a single long jet of flame, scraping up what was left of his magic reserves.

 

The screams of the humans were ungodly as the fire hit. They shrieked, screeched, howled as flesh caught flame and burned.

 

Some raced forward to try and attack even as their skin cracked and blackened, but it was no use. They stumbled and fell as their limbs failed them, useless to even crawl the few feet between them and their killer.

 

Fire roared, but the humans screamed louder.

 

Wind was crouching, staring vacantly forward at the carnage. She seemed disconnected from it all. Flame kneeled on the ground, hands pressed tightly but pointlessly to his ears. The last cries of the humans still rang through his head, and he was sure they would never end.

 

Screams turned to begs, moans, pleads. The humans wanted healing, they wanted family. They wanted death.

 

There was nothing either elemental could do for them. Both barely had enough magic left to maintain their forms.

 

The last few cries petered out, until there was only one human writhing on the ground.

 

"Please... Kill me," she begged, face twisted in pain. Her arms were both blackened, and Flame could see bone.

 

He couldn't move. He was frozen to the ground, still in shock.

 

Slowly, with a great deal of effort, she lifted her head and looked him directly in the eye. "I only wish I lived long enough to watch you suffer and die," she choked. "In the next life, I'll kill you by my own hand, Hellfire. One cut for every person I love you killed."

 

Hellfire. The humans had a name for him.

 

The woman had fallen still. He hoped she found peace.

 

Was this what regret felt like? Guilt?

 

He suddenly remembered the droves of humans that had fallen at his hand. The villages he had burned. Every person that died had a family, had people they loved.

 

"....Flame?" He finally heard Wind calling to him. "Flame, you need to get up now."

 

He looked up at her. Her head was tilted in concern, but her voice was soothing and understanding. "We need to go back to the camp. You need rest, and I need to make a report about how well you did today."

 

He almost laughed. If he did well, why did it hurt so much? 

 

He hated this feeling in his chest, this weight. It dragged on his shoulders and turned his feet to lead.  That wouldn't do. He couldn't fight while feeling as if he was wearing two sets of armor.

 

It impeded his capabilities as a soldier, so he buried it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm really sorry again for the wait. I'd promise chapter five won't take as long, but I can't say so for sure, sorry  
> If you're wondering what Cyprus's song is, I listened to I See Fire by Ed Sheeran while writing those scenes, so it's similar to that.  
> Thank you for reading, and for being patient with me!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flame, no, Hellfire begins to see those around him in a different light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heartsigns at my beta, rlcav36 on tumblr!

When they got back to camp, Helvetica was waiting for them.

 

"Well that certainly took longer than- what happened to you two?"

 

Neither of them had so much as a scratch, but she must have seen how exhausted they both were. Shoulders slumped, heads bowed, almost stumbling. Flame was leaning slightly on Wind, even more drained than she. Wind gently let go of him, then turned to Helvetica. "If you have the time, I'd like to explain to you what happened." 

 

Helvetica gave her a long look. "Meet me in my tent when you can."

 

Wind put a soft hand on Flame's pauldron. "Go on to bed, alright? Or, no, um..." She trailed off. Flame had never seen her look so uncomfortable. She bowed slightly, stiff. "I would advise you to get some rest, Sergeant Hellfire."

 

He flinched. The name, the mannerisms, it was too much for him. He wanted to go to the meeting with Helvetica, but he didn't know if he would be able to stand it if Wind continued to treat him like this. 

 

"I- I'd like to accompany you."

 

Wind straightened, still not meeting his eyes. "As you wish." She waited for him to begin the tired walk to Helvetica's tent before following slightly behind him. 

 

By the time they reached it, Flame was ready to pass out on any mostly horizontal surface. It was only sheer willpower that was keeping him upright.

 

As they entered, Helvetica was waiting for them. "Explain to me why what was supposed a quick trip turned into you two coming back like you just came back from battle."

 

"We did come from battle," Wind said.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"The humans knew we were coming. They must have left purposefully in order to get us to come there. It was pure luck that there were only two of us. In the end, it didn't matter; we still managed to burn every field but one. We moved with the wind, and the trees they were planning to ambush us in happened to be farthest downwind."

 

"But neither of you are hurt?"

 

"We are both unharmed."

 

Flame finally lifted his head. "A human called me a name. Hellfire. They knew me."

 

Helvetica stared at him, face considering and almost... pitiful. She crossed to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "You will take that name and wear it with honor. An elemental that has earned a name is nearly unheard of, and should be known to everyone. Humans will run when they hear the name Sergeant Hellfire."

 

He went silent again as Wind described the number of humans and how they were killed. Helvetica seemed impressed by their efficiency. After the report was finished, she dismissed them both. She turned and looked contemplatively at the map behind her as they left. 

 

Night had just set in. He was sure his head would never stop ringing, that he would never smell anything but filth and blood.

 

"You should get some rest," Wind said quietly, not looking at him. He wanted to talk to her about that, about how she was acting, but he was too exhausted for a confrontation. Instead, he just rested a hand on her back for a moment, allowing his mind to begin to process the day's events. Without another word, the parted and went to their own beds.

 

Flame was sure he would not get sleep that night.

 

No, not Flame. 

 

He was Hellfire now.

 

\---

 

The next morning, he cooked. He stood and stewed along with breakfast. It was rich and hearty and full of spices, but it tasted like ash to him. 

 

Cyprus stopped him when grabbing their own share. "I heard what happened in the fight last night. You have a name now?"

 

He nodded. "A human called me Hellfire, right before she died. I believe Helvetica wishes for me to use that name instead of being called Flame."

 

"That makes sense. If humans have a name for you, they're afraid of you. She wants to capitalize on that." There was a long pause as they ate. "Are... Are you alright? You seem withdrawn."

 

"I am normally quiet."

 

"Yes, but you're alert. You normally pay attention to everything that's happening, that's how you got a promotion. Now you're staring into space every other moment."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"No, no, I'm not reprimanding you," Cyprus backpedaled. "I'm just... What happened? Last night, I mean."

 

Hellfire took a deep breath. Then another. "We were surrounded. There were so many humans, and I was so tired. Wind and I weren't sure we would make it out. We worked together to set them all on fire, but we couldn't escape. We were surrounded, we- we had to listen to them die. One human lived a little longer than others. She- she told me about how she wanted to wanted to kill me, because I had killed so many people she loved." Here he faltered. Her threat hadn't bothered him, but her words... "I hadn't realized. The humans, they're like monsters. No magic, much plainer, but they love. They're alive." He looked at Cyprus. "Right?"

 

Their face was drawn in sorrow. "Trust me, I know how humans are." They stared at the ground. "Before the war, humans and monsters were friends. We worked together, we lived together. Some of my best friends were humans. Now, they might be dead."

 

Hellfire couldn't assimilate this with what he already knew about humans. They were weak, but dangerous, and had to be wiped out. Or so he had thought.

 

"How do you bear it?"

 

They laughed bitterly. "You bury it. You bury it and hope you don't see anyone you know in battle."

 

"Have you? Seen someone you know, I mean."

 

They fell silent. "I... I should be meeting with Helvetica for morning reports." 

 

Hellfire watched him go, unsure if he should apologize for asking. He wished Darwyn was here, so he would have someone he could ask.

 

\---

 

The next battle dawned with the sun a few days later. It had been mostly quiet, until the day before when a scout came back from a fly-over, stuck full of arrows and shedding feathers from stress. As the medics attended to her, she described a huge force being marshaled on the humans' front. 

 

"They've figured out that we've gotten a lot stronger here, so they're bolstering themselves," she had said, nibbling on some food a medic had shoved in her claws. "Looked like they were getting in formations and all that too. I flew a little low, and saw a bunch'a plans and all that, maps and all. That's when the archers saw me and shot at me. Probably be here sometime tomorrow, but I'll do a flyover again tonight to see if they're on their way." Helvetica had protested, saying she should rest, but she had insisted. It was good that she did, as she had been right. There were humans on their way, with a force twice as big as all previous fights. 

 

Helvetica had told him to let loose, to hold nothing back. _Bury it_ , Cyprus has said. 

 

Miles away and days late, humans poured over the horizon like blood, howling and raving and breathing and alive. 

 

Hellfire took a step back from himself, and went to work.

 

Swords clashed, blood flew, dust filled the air. He noticed none of it. The leather grip of his sword in his hand, the sizzling of blood on his blade, the carnage he left in his wake, those were the only things real to him now. 

 

Humans screamed his name and ran from his face. It sounded like flies buzzing in his head, staticky and meaningless. Grey filled the sky, a choking mix of dust and smoke. Humans, weak and visceral as they were, fell from the smog filling their lungs. He cut them down in their vulnerability, taking the chance as soon as he saw it. Useless, useless, none of these creatures meant anything to him. Right?

 

"Hellfire!" he heard on human roar over the din. He approached on horseback in heavy plate armor, dust coating his gauntlets. 

 

Hellfire removed the head of the human he had been standing against, then turned to the man in front of him. He said nothing, but simply waited, hyperaware of every person around him. The human dismounted and drew a battle axe, not as finely made as Cyprus's but just as deadly. 

 

He rushed to Hellfire, who stood his ground. He wouldn't back down to a human. 

 

The human swung, and Hellfire ducked out of the way, analyzing the man's armor. There was a gap between helm and breastplate, visible only when his head was bowed. 

 

Hellfire raised his sword and struck the back of the human's helm with it, knocking him forward. There it was, a small slice of skin on the back of his neck. He reached down, making his hand as hot as possible in the short moment, and gripped the human's neck.

 

The human _screamed_ , flesh going black almost immediately. He crumpled, held up only by Hellfire's grip. He writhed and pulled at Hellfire's hand, still screaming, but Hellfire was unyielding. After a few moments, he released the human, only to raise his sword and strike the same spot he had just let go. 

 

The human's head rolled to the ground, stump blackened from the flames on his sword.

 

The feeling that had plagued him since the hilltop with Wind surged like magma in his throat. He needed to remove himself, to put distance between himself and the scene before him. A few deep breaths, and he was gone once again.

 

The fight seemed to end as quickly as it had started. The humans had given up once again, but the monsters were not without losses. Blood, dust, and ash had mixed to create a disgusting mud coating the whole plain. Fire still smoldered in patches, on blackened bodies and dried grass. The monsters still standing were covered in injuries, and field medics ran from person to person, glowing with green healing magic.

 

The sun was high in the sky, making the stench of corpses even worse. Flies clouded in the air. Hellfire stood and stared and the retreating backs of the humans. 

 

Cyprus came up next to him, face sympathetic. He wondered if they'd seen anyone they knew tonight. He didn't ask.

 

\---

 

For weeks, maybe months, battles continued in the same fashion. He went, he stepped away from himself, he cut swaths through their ranks. At camp, he cooked, he trained, and he planned. Helvetica seemed to value his opinion, and considered him a strong fighter. She had even dropped hints about giving him an even higher rank, should he prove himself. Cyprus's face always twisted at that, but they never spoke against it.

 

One meeting, Cyprus came forward with a breakthrough.

 

"I've been collecting scouts' reports," they said as soon as Helvetica quieted everyone. "The humans are swinging around to the east, and another battalion is approaching from the north. They aim to surround us as the base of the mountain." It made sense. Most of the monster population was centered around Mount Ebott, with only a few smaller towns farther away. Fewer and fewer messages had been coming from those towns, lately.

 

Helvetica scanned the map, adding a few markers to the places Cyprus had pointed out. "We barely have anyone in the north. The southern battalions are strong, and can spare some monsters east. We're stronger here, too, but with the way the humans have been collecting here, I don't know how we'll be able to send anyone north. Have we gotten any messages from other generals about the situation?"

 

"No, ma'am. They could be en route, but messengers aren't due to arrive for another few days."

 

"Damn it." Helvetica straightened, arms folded and eyes narrow. "Did the scouts say how quickly the humans were gathering?"

 

"Very quickly. If we're going to send anyone that way, we need to do it within the next week."

 

"I want a flyover done. Not any scout, either. I need you to do it, Cyprus." 

 

They nodded. "I'll leave at nightfall. I should be back in two days."

 

Hellfire stepped forward. "What will we do if we don't get orders in time?"

 

"I'll give you a hundred soldiers and send you north."

 

"But sergeants only lead twenty," Cyprus pointed out. 

 

"Then perhaps a promotion will be in order," Helvetica said, brow bone raised. "Now, are you leaving or not?"

 

They bowed and left, tail twitching. Hellfire bowed as well, then turned to leave. 

 

"I never dismissed you, Hellfire," she called. With a wave of her hand, the meeting was adjourned. As everyone filed out, she studied him. "If I offered you the position of captain, would you accept?"

 

"If you wish to promote me, that must mean I am fit for the job."

 

"Would it change anything if I told you an elemental has never held that position before? Sergeants are rare, yes, but captains are unheard of."

 

This gave him pause. "Why would I be the first?"

 

"You're unusual. Intelligence has been seen before, occasionally, but you take it to a separate level. You plan, you think, you analyze. Not only that, you do all those well enough to be deserving of a high ranking. You're not quite an elemental anymore. You're becoming a true monster."

 

He bristled at that, just a little. "I am no less an elemental than Wind, or Water, or Storm. Rock, Ice. Mud. We're all elementals, and always will be. Perhaps we're monsters too, I don't know. What I do know is that I had someone who spoke to me as if I was more than a living weapon."

 

"And therein lies the difference?"

 

"Maybe. Somehow, I doubt I am an outlier. I simply had something extra. Something most elementals don't have."

 

She gave him a long look. "Something to look into, I suppose. We'll see how well you continue to perform, yes?"

 

Hellfire bowed shortly. "Am I dismissed?" She nodded, and he brushed out of the tent. Him, a monster? No one had ever referred to him as anything beyond an elemental before. What did it mean, to be a monster? Was it the relationships he had made? Was it the heavy feeling in his chest every time he killed?

 

It the end, it didn't matter. Monster, elemental, they were only words. Monsterkind as a whole, however, did matter, and Hellfire would kill or die a thousand times over to protect it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is sansfemur, if you want to ask questions or make comments or just yell about grillby :0  
> also I have a playlist for this fic on spotify, if anyone's interested I'll add a link!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clouds gather, tides change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait!

The next two days were tense. Helvetica hadn't shared the humans' movements with the lower soldiers, but she was strung more tightly than a bowstring, and everyone in the camp could sense it. There was less joking, less singing, as everyone quietly went about their duties. A storm was brewing, and the animals had gone silent.

 

Hellfire spent his time drilling the other soldiers, focusing mostly on the elementals. He was willing to help anyone with swordplay, but if there was a force of humans surging up north, the most powerful of them needed to be ready. The only breaks he got were discussing strategy with Helvetica, and occasional rests when he could find the time. He didn't even have the chance to cook.

 

Cyprus's return was of no relief. They swept into camp, gliding directly to Helvetica's tent. Hellfire, who had been following them since they had passed the boundary of the camp, followed them inside as they made their report. They didn't even bow before speaking, with how urgent they were.

 

"The humans are collecting just as we thought, but not just in the north. I went to the top of Mount Ebott, and they were coming from all sides. There were so _many_ , they must be coming from every corner of the earth. There's a couple of watchtowers scattered north, but they're nowhere near enough to stop that force. Hell, I don't know if what we have here is enough." They shook their head, eyes distant, as if they were still seeing the masses of humans. "I saw the messenger on the way back. Had some letters from other generals."

 

Helvetica snatched them, jaw tight. She broke the wax seal on one and skimmed its contents. "Need troops... General Scalene dead... Humans gathering in the east..." She sat heavily. The next letter had no better news: another dead leader, a monster settlement found empty, full of dust. The last letter was from the king himself. After skimming that one, she set it down and took a deep breath. Collected once more, she stood. "I am to gather some of my troops and go north. Other soldiers that can be spared will be meeting us there. The humans have been... Indiscriminate, in who they kill, as of late. Children, wounded, elderly, they only wish to wipe us out." Another deep breath. "Hellfire, I trust you and the other elementals will be joining me in the north."

 

He nodded. He would go wherever she needed him.

 

Cyprus stepped forward. "And me?"

 

"I need someone I trust to continue to defend the western front. That would be you."

 

"But- but I'm only a sergeant."

 

Helvetica looked up at them. Her eyes were incredibly tired, but she seemed to be smiling. "I always thought Captain Cyprus sounded better than Sergeant."

 

They looked taken aback for a moment, then straightened and bowed. "I'll do my best to continue to serve you."

 

"And you, Hellfire?" She said nothing else, but he heard what she meant. Was he ready to represent elementals everywhere, to be the first step to a place where his kind might be seen as monsters?

 

"I accept." 

 

\---

 

The soldiers did not take the news of the humans' strategy well. They cursed, shouted, raved, and above all, mourned. Mourned the loss of the generals on other fronts of the war. Mourned the death of countless monsters, struck down by humans without anyone left to scatter their dust. They mourned the hope that there was a peaceful end to this war, because the humans had taken their stance: a massacre. 

 

Monsters would have their revenge, but it had already had a cost.

 

Helvetica divided the camp. A third or so would be moving north, to take up arms with the other soldiers from other fronts. The others would stay back and continue defending the west, keeping humanity from gaining any ground on that side. Normally, they would have taken longer to mobilize, but there was no time. They needed to be there by yesterday, and there was no time for perfect packing or heartfelt goodbyes.

 

He did stop, however, to speak to Cyprus before he left. 

 

"Are you going to be alright here on your own?"

 

Cyprus smiled, a little ruefully. "Sure. The woman who's directed me for years is leaving, and taking some of my best friends with her, where I won't be able to make sure they're safe." They sighed. "I'll be fine, Hellfire."

 

Hellfire's mind caught on one phrase. "Best friend?"

 

They looked at him incredulously. "We've worked closely for years, of course we're friends!" After a moment's pause, they continued. "I... I'm sorry for how I treated you, in the beginning. I didn't know that-"

 

"Hellfire!" Helvetica called distantly. "We need to move!"

 

"Well, never mind." Cyprus said. They went to put their hand on his shoulder, but seemed to change their mind halfway through. Instead, they leaned in and hugged him. He was frozen in surprise, but managed a few pats on their back, around their wings. Standing back, they gave him a long look. "I'll be sure to write. You'd better write too, or I'll fly to the northern front myself and hit you with a human."

 

One last thump on the shoulder, and they were gone in the bustling groups of soldiers.

 

The journey to the northern side of the mountain was somber. They walked in tight formation, barely speaking to each other. Helvetica lead them on her skeletal horse, Hellfire by her side. Clouds gathered on the horizon as they traveled, heavy with precipitation. Even the nights were quiet. No songs twisted around the stars, no friendly chatter filled the air. Only silence rang through, thick as smoke and just as heavy.

 

When they came across the first watchtower, Helvetica stopped. "They should have stopped us at this point. Greeted us, something," she muttered. 

 

"Should I go check inside?" Hellfire asked.

 

"Please. Take a couple others with you."

 

He turned and saw Water and Rock just behind. "You two, follow me," he ordered, then turned back to the tower.

 

Inside, the room was filthy. Dark brown stains were spread along the floor. The dried blood, however, was incomparable with the amount of dust scattered on the floor. A thick layer of it covered every surface, caking everything in dirty white.

 

Hellfire felt his chest clench at the sight. So many monsters had fallen in this room. He turned to his companions. "The blood looks old, so the humans have probably moved on by now. Nonetheless, be on your guard." They nodded, unaffected by the scene. 

 

He continued up the stairs. If anything, there was more dust here than below, thick enough to leave heavy tracks. How many monsters had worked here? It was appalling, that the humans would wipe them out so thoroughly. The entire structure was empty, with only dust and a slight draft for company.

 

A sheaf of papers on a nearby table caught his eye. It looked like a list of daily entries, probably to be sent monthly to whomever this tower was reporting to. He scanned the most recent page.

 

_Day 78: Very little movement, except a couple a whimsuns floating around. They're always there, though. Same as the past few weeks. Seltz started singing earlier, got everyone to join him too. I think I'd rather fight a horde of humans than listen to this garbage any longer._

_Day 79: We were supposed to get signals from the other towers today. Only two sent anything. Where's the third? I've told everyone to give it a few days. It's been quiet around here, so there's no reason to worry, right? Messenger probably got distracted or something._

_Day 80: Quiet. No response._

_Day 81: No response._

_Day 82: No fucking response_

_Day 83: I've sent a few scouts to check and make sure everything's alright. Just to ease everyone's worries._

_Day 84: All quiet. I need to be patient._

_Day 85: I'd heard the stories, but I didn't think I'd ever experience it this closely. Everyone in the whole goddamn tower was dead. The scouts came back all pale and shaky. Said they'd never seen so much dust in their whole lives. Why do the humans hate us so much?_  
_I need to stay alert. That tower wasn't too far from here._

_Day 86: Everyone's on high alert. Humans could be just over the horizon. I don't think I've ever seen this rowdy bunch so tense._

_Day 87: The whimsuns are gone._

_Day 88: the humans are here. if youre reading this, we're probably dead. i need to_

 

Here, the page became too thickly coated in dust to continue.

 

Hellfire collected the rest of the papers for Helvetia. He tried not to cringe at the sandy texture of dust against his fingers.

 

"Come on, you two. There's nothing left here."

 

Outside, he gave the reports to Helvetica. When she finished reading, she bowed her head and closed her eyes, giving the fallen soldiers a moment of silence. When she looked back up, her face was hard as stone. "Not one, but two towers wiped out. We _cannot_ let this continue." She rolled the paper so tightly it tore. "We need to keep moving."

 

They continued for hours. Word spread amongst the soldiers about what happened to the two watchtowers. Hellfire could feel anger build like a tangible force, pressing against his back and forcing him faster. The whole force seemed to quicken as one, desperate to meet humans and have some sort of outlet for their rage. Nobody came.

 

As the sun was just beginning to sink against the horizon, they could see a dishearteningly small number of tents set up, all waving Delta Rune flags. 

 

"Almost there, everyone!" called Helvetica. She had dismounted to let her horse rest, and was walking with everyone else. "We should arrive before nightfall." The sky was brilliant red, and Hellfire tried to decide if the color was closer to flame or blood.

 

True to her word, Helvetica lead them to the camp just as stars began to show in the sky. As soon as they reached it, she turned to Hellfire. "As a captain, you'll be getting new armor. We didn't have time to get it before we left, so be sure to go to the armory first thing tomorrow. For now, get some rest. Meet me in my tent as soon as you are finished in the armory." With that, she left, most likely to greet the other generals that had joined them. 

 

As he attempted to sleep, his mind wandered across the people he knew. Where were they now? Helvetica and Wind he still had at his side, but Cyprus, Darwyn, Gerson, his mage... God, his mage. He hadn't thought of her in ages. Where was she? Had she summoned more elementals since him? Where were they? He hoped she was safe. 

 

He fell asleep thinking of brown tabby fur and lamplike green eyes.

 

\---

 

"So, there he is. The infamous Captain Hellfire." The blacksmith, a muscular red demon, greeted him with a four-armed handshake and a smirk. "You kill any humans today?"

 

Hellfire wasn't sure what answer the smith was looking for. "Uh... no?" 

 

He laughed, loudly. "What the hell are you waiting for, then? Ah, new armor, right?" He grabbed Hellfire by the arm and dragged him to the opposite wall. "Name's Percival, by the way. Parents probably wanted me to be a noble or somethin', but now I'm a smith. Anyway, here's your new armor!" There on the workbench was fairly simple, but finely made armor. It looked heavier than his current set, with fewer undefended spots. The only thing missing was a set of gauntlets, but he didn't need them. Elementals needed access to their hands in order to use their abilities, though being without gauntlets led to quite a few hand-relates injuries. Rock only had three fingers on his right hand because of one wayward sword. 

 

The new armor was indeed quite heavy, just as he had suspected it would be. It was surprisingly also quite comfortable, or, well, as comfortable armor got. The leather lining was soft and well made, and the chainmail was tightly linked. In all, it was exponentially better than his previous set. The Delta Rune embossed on the front shone in the bright firelight of the forge. 

 

"Well, don't you look fancy!" crowed Percival as soon as Hellfire was finished strapping on the armor. Hellfire nodded and thanked him, then left to meet with Helvetica. 

 

Her tent was full of people. However, she was the only one in armor. The rest were dressed finely, in cloaks and furs and purples. Bedecked in heavy jewelry and arm bracers that looked more for decoration than protection, they milled about the tent and spoke to each other quietly. Helvetica seemed to be fuming.

 

"Ah, Hellfire, there you are," she said, relieved.

 

"Where are the generals?" he asked. He saw no one else with weapons, or the same presence as her.

 

"These are they," she bit out. "Plus a few advisors, captains, and other politicians." Those in the tent ruffled at her tone. One slime monster in particular whispered, "As a slime, I'm offended."

 

"Will they be changing into their armor soon?"

 

"These generals," she said tightly, "prefer to direct soldiers from the tent rather than the field."

 

That was confusing, to say the least. How could a general properly direct their troops without being there with them? Hellfire simply chalked it up to something he didn't understand yet. Perhaps Helvetica was the outlier. 

 

One of the generals, a large crane, swept forwards. "General Callton, please," he said grandly, extending one wing. Hellfire bemusedly grabbed the tip and shook it. Callton swept his wing into the air as soon as it was released to grab everyone's attention. "Now that Captain Hellfire has elected to join us, we may begin."

 

Helvetica's eyes were narrow as she moved to the central table. Hellfire followed her, still feeling like he was missing something.

 

"Now, scouts' reports have shown humans gathering in this forest here," Helvetica said, pointing close to the top of the map. "It seems far enough that we have some time yet before we have to worry, but I'd prefer to meet them rather than let them take their time to come to us. We should-"

 

Callton interrupted. "Wouldn't it be better if-" 

 

"General Callton, I would _appreciate_ it if you would let me finish. Now. We should move our troops forwards, and make it clear that we're approaching. I'd rather not waste time sneaking about. Are there any objections?"

 

Hellfire stepped forwards. "We don't have to sneak, but perhaps we can still trick them. Use their pride against them." She waved a hand, inviting him to continue. "We could send out a smaller group of fast moving monsters to draw out their soldiers. They would spread out the humans, thin their numbers." He pointed to a clump of hills not far from the forest. "Here, we could hide a second wave of soldiers, to come out once the humans arrive. The humans would try and attack the smaller group, ready for an easy kill, but they'd end up surprised by the second group."

 

The generals in the tent muttered to one another. One spoke up. "Wouldn't that be too dangerous for the first group?"

 

"It certainly won't be easy, but sometimes in war one must take risks."

 

Helvetica made a strange sound, almost like a muffled laugh. That couldn't be right, could it? The three generals exchanged glares, but couldn't argue. 

 

"How would you split the elementals?"

 

That was easy. "Wind, Ice, and Water in the first group. Rock, Storm, and myself in the second." 

 

She nodded. "I'll join the second group. Now, will any of you be joining us on the battlefield?" Her voice was sharp as a dagger. No one spoke. "As I thought. Now, Hellfire and I will talk to our soldiers about this strategy. I'm sure you all will find some way to entertain yourselves." With that, she swept out of the tent. Hellfire followed.

 

She was moving determinedly, and he had to race to catch up. "Are you alright?"

 

"I cannot believe that not only do I have to work with those pompous _assholes_ , but that the king thought I would have any use for them in the first place!" she cursed, tossing her hands in the air. A deep breath and she was collected again, still marching forwards. "We'll most likely have to explain the strategy to their troops as well. The human force is huge, and we want to draw out as many as possible, so we'll need a large force of our own. I'll see to the other soldiers. I trust you can figure out who should be in each group from our own?"

 

Hellfire could. He thought of his past battles, of those that dodged the fastest and those that hit the hardest. From those, he chose the best he could. They wanted to hit hard early, and maybe scare or scatter the remaining force. He was worried, however. Not only was he responsible for the attack plan, he was also responsible for choosing the people who would carry it out. Any mistake they made would fall on his broad shoulders, and, by extension, Helvetica's. 

 

He'd represent her well. There was no other option.

 

\---

 

It was quiet. The sky was a heavy, cottony grey, and the air felt thick and humid.

 

Hellfire crouched against the hillside, Helvetica by his side. They waited in the silence, only broken by the impatient stirring of an occasional soldier.

 

Noise began to build in the distance. Movement, shouts, the storming of footsteps, the hiss of magic, the clang of metal weapons and armor. It grew ever closer, and he could feel magic and adrenaline rushing through him. 

 

Suddenly, there it was: the signal, one long stream of water directly upwards. As soon as he caught sight of it, he burst forward in a rush of heat and aggression. Behind him, he could hear the storm of his fellow warriors behind him. Together, they charged.

 

Some of the humans had recognized the signal for what it was, and were slightly more prepared. Most, however, were caught off guard, and collectively backpedaled from the heavy reinforcements. They regained their courage quickly, however, and raced to meet the monsters. 

 

Magic met metal in a shockwave that seemed to ring across the entire valley. Hellfire didn't think about the number of monsters and humans that fell in the initial onslaught. He couldn't. 

 

It took a moment for any humans to recognize him, but recognize him they did, most likely from descriptions and reports from the western front. Cries of " _Hellfire!_ " and " _He's here!_ " rang out. He cut each one down with a sword wreathed in flame. His blade bit into flesh and armor in equal measure, and humans burned and bled and fell.

 

It seemed, however, for every human he killed, another appeared. For each body he left in his wake, he saw another pile of dust. He could feel himself blaze hotter in his anger, leaving black, smoldering footsteps in the dry grass. Hellfire knew it would be too much of a drain to send out swaths of fire, but he wanted to see these humans _burn_.

 

Finally, _finally_ , the humans began to draw back. It was barely noticeable at first, as the monsters continued to push them, but he could turn and see a visible trail of ash and dust and death behind him as the lines moved. Eventually, a cloaked human called, "Fall back!"

 

As the humans ran, the storm broke. Each drop of rain felt like acid against Hellfire's flame, but he didn't flinch. Even though the humans had retreated, the sheer amount of dust felt like failure. He watched as the rain turned blood and ash into heavy, thick mud that coated his boots.

 

Hellfire stood, as the rain failed to wash the blood from his armor, and tried to ignore the feeling of turning tides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was meant to be at least twice as long, but it was taking forever, so I just chopped it in half to cut down on the wait time. it'll be a bit before chapter 7 too sorry :0


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The front lines shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this one didnt take ages im proud of me

Their return was not joyful. There was no celebration of their victory, for how could there be when so many were gone? Over half of their numbers had been turned to dust, and it was only sheer luck that they had managed to deliver a heavier blow to the humans.

 

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Helvetica said when he told her as much. "Your plan saved lives. Who knows what would have happened had we charged head on as I said?" 

 

"You were doing your duty," Wind added. "As were all those who died. Soldiers have to be ready to sacrifice themselves for the greater good."

 

The day was only worsened by the arrival of a letter. 

 

The messenger who brought it, a skittish-looking whimsalot, handed the note to Helvetica with shaking hands. It looked intensely afraid, as if a human was hiding behind every corner. 

 

Helvetica took the letter gently, not wanting frighten the poor creature further. "This is my husband's seal," she murmured, "but royal stationary. Not a personal letter then. We should be with the others to see this."

 

Once in the main tent, she cracked the wax and read the letter aloud.

 

" _To my dearest,_ "

 

Her cheekbones gently glowed red.

 

" _I'd begin this with the usual pleasantries, but there is no time. The humans, they've discovered something terrible._  
_The more a human kills, the more powerful it gets._  
_Because of this, they seek out easy targets. The old, weak, even children. They found a nursery in the last settlement I was in, and killed everything inside. There was only one adult with them, and twenty children. Some were infants. Now, they're all dead. I had Sans and Papyrus with me, don't worry. I'll tell you about them in the attached personal letter._  
_Please, please keep your weaker ones safe. The humans kill and become more powerful, and kill more. I don't want to think about the powers they would gain after killing enough. It's something I would like to study, but with the sheer number of attacks in the east, I'm not sure I'll be able to. I'm not even sure how I would go about studying a human that had killed many, with how strong they would be._  
_Stay safe, love. Give the other generals my regards._  
_Wing Dings Gaster, Royal Scientist to His Majesty_

 

The room was silent, in the heavy, tense way of a full room. Callton broke it.

 

"Oh, _gods_. Not only are they killing even the weakest of us, they get more powerful as they do. How do we fight creatures like this?"

 

Helvetica's hands were shaking, but she stood tall. "We will continue to fight. We must. I, for one, refuse to take this lying down, and I hope you all agree. I will not go to dust over the petty hate of humans."

 

Callton was unconvinced. "Did we even hear the same letter? _They are slaughtering children!_ "

 

"What would you have me do?" she shouted back, tossing her hands in the air. "Roll over and let them kill us?"

 

"Fall back! Focus on defending what we have, not pushing boundaries!"

 

"With the way the most recent fight went, if _any_ reinforcements come, this will turn into a defensive line! Either way, it's not my call to make. I follow the king's orders, and I would _hope_ you'll do the same."

 

The feather's on Callton's neck rose, but he said nothing.

 

\---

 

Over the next couple weeks, they trained hard. There were few breaks for anyone. Scout were sent out at all hours of the day to keep an eye on the humans. Their enemy was recuperating after suffering a huge blow to their fighting force, and a few intercepted messages showed they were calling out for reinforcements. There was no way to tell if any messages calling for aid had gotten past their scouts, not until it would be too late. 

 

He knew they were busy, he knew he needed to work hard, and he did. However, he also took the time to cook every once in a while. He hadn't been able to recently, and he missed it. Plus, with all the risks his soldiers were taking, they deserved to have good food. He could imagine Cyprus's voice:

 

_"Get to work, Hellfire! We've got battles to train for! It, ah, tastes good, though. Thanks."_

 

Helvetica seemed to appreciate both his cooking and his tactics, and Wind helped him train soldiers. The camps as a whole fell into a comfortable, if tense, routine. 

 

Once again, a letter destroyed the relative peace.

 

A scout, a large owl, flew into camp, clutching a crumpled letter in her talons. She landed in a heap, breathing heavily, then handed the letter to Callton. 

 

"Intercepted... Meant for the humans... Flew as fast as I could," she panted. Callton worriedly grabbed the letter, waving over a few medics to look at the scout. He opened the letter right there, sensing that whatever was inside was too important to wait. Helvetica, Hellfire at her side, and the other leaders gathered as he read it.

 

When he finished, his eyes were wide. "Oh, _no_."

 

"Are you going to tell us what it said, or are you just going to be melodramatic?" Helvetica snapped.

 

"The humans' reinforcements are on their way. To all sides. _Gods_ , how many humans are there?"

 

"There's no time for that. When will they be here?"

 

"Soon, it said. Days, even."

 

"Then we need to act quickly. Attack and wipe out as many humans as we can before the reinforcements get here. We've no monsters to spare on any sides, so we can't expect any aid ourselves. Hellfire, collect our troops. The rest of you, with me." Though everyone bar Hellfire in the group was a general themselves, in times of battle they all deferred to her.

 

Almost everyone joined this battle. Only non-field medics, some still recuperating from the most recent fight, and a small squadron to defend them stayed.

 

And, of course, the other generals. Their cloaks were weathered with the stone of castle hallways, not worn with strain of battle, and this was no different. They would stay, and fret, and keep their hands bloodless and dustless, through most only cared about the latter. 

 

Hellfire could feel the swell of anger behind him as he led their army at Helvetica's side. This was not the same hot rage as on the journey north, however. This anger was desperate, like its wielders knew that anger was the only fuel they had left. This was not a fight they could come from victorious, for even if they killed every human, another force would soon replace them. This was a fight that they could only come from in the same standing as before - weakened and exhausted, against a huge, seemingly tireless force.

 

It seemed hopeless, but had no other option. If there was anything monsters were good at, it was keeping hope. It was their life force.

 

They crested the hills next to the forest in one force. There were no tricks this time. The humans wouldn't fall for the same one again, and there was no time to argue over tactics. 

 

Helvetica turned to the soldiers. No words were spoken. She lifted one fist in the air, and each monster silently raised their weapon in response. No roars, no shouts. One act of solidarity, and they were off into the trees.

 

The humans' camp was deep within the woods. The foliage was fairly sparse, however, so there was little blocking their way. In the distance, the fires of camps burned. As the pushed forwards, Hellfire could see that they were set up in small, scattered clearings. 

 

Monsters slowed as one, took a collective breath, and charged.

 

The humans knew they were there; their approach hadn't exactly been secretive. What they weren't prepared for, however, was the monsters' ferocity. They attacked with all their rage and pain and loss, and it drove their blades deeper, made their magic stronger. Despite that, humans had lost their own, and matched the monsters blow for blow.

 

Hellfire struck as hard as he could. Ice was at his side, and together they burned scores of human with frostbite and flame. It wasn't enough, however. Even with swaths of blackened skin, most came back, limping or holding weapons in their other hand, but they kept fighting. 

 

As he fought to get them to stay down, he could see others struggling as well. Water grabbed one, shoved her hand against their face, and forced a stream of water up their nose and down their throat. They fell, choking and gasping, vomiting water, then stood again on shaky legs. Water faltered for a moment. She had never been adept at making killing blows after seeing a human's face. 

 

Before either she or the human could move, a hand made of grey, swirling clouds pressed against the human's back. Electricity arced through them, and they fell, dead. Storm nodded at Water, and she back at her, and together they dove back into the endless mass of battle. 

 

Rock had formed heavy, sharp spikes of stone attached to the sides of his hands, perfect for piercing helmets and skulls. Though his movements were slow, those he hit did not get up again.

 

Hellfire himself favored his sword. He covered it in flame and struck, cutting though masses of humans and leaving bodies and ash in his wake. He had fallen into a rhythm, when he heard Helvetica cry out.

 

He moved entirely on instinct, whirling towards the noise and killing any human that stood between him and his goal. When he finally got to her, she was leaning heavily on her sword. One of her legs was cut off below the knee, and there was dust scattered below her where the other half had already dissolved. She was fending off a human with bone attacks, but she was faltering, distracted by pain and struggling to stay balanced. 

 

Hellfire saw all of this within a moment. Wasting no time, he rushed forwards and cut off the human's head, not even waiting until they fell to the ground before stepping to Helvetica's side. He took the place of her sword, draping her arm over his shoulder while sheathing his own blade.

 

"Go defend other monsters! I can get to the field medics on my own," she hissed. 

 

"You're missing one of your legs, Helvetica," he protested, sending fire towards a few humans who got too close. "I can take a moment to help you."

 

Helvetica thought a moment. "Fine, but move quickly." Her voice shook slightly, but she stayed steady.

 

Together, they limped through the battleground. Hellfire kept his hand white hot to fend off those who saw Helvetica as an easy target, and she shot glowing blue bones at those who charged. Finally, slowly, they found a medic, a scattered-looking axolotl. Helvetica let go of Hellfire, simultaneously pushing herself off him and him towards the fighting.

 

"I'll be fine! They need you. Go!" 

 

After watching a moment longer to make sure the medic was taking care of her, he turned and raced back. 

 

He could sense that the humans were just beginning to draw away, when a horn sounded over the din. Through the trees, there was a fresh, dust-hungry fighting force, weapons drawn and charging forward.

 

The reinforcements had arrived.

 

Hellfire could feel desperation welling in his chest. Of course they had to come now, when every monster was hurt, exhausted, or already dust. 

 

He met the humans, blade ready, but he was _tired_. Even his substantial stamina was low, and he could see everyone around him buckling under the doubled attack of their enemy.

 

Some humans fell, choking from how thick the air was with smoke and dust. Others were killed with blades or magic. It wasn't nearly enough. For every human that died, two or three or five monsters were killed.

 

Monsters fell without being touched, so low on hope that their bodies gave out. Humans took their vulnerability as an invitation. Rather than allowing them to be removed from the battlefield, they killed as soon as any monster hit the ground.

 

Distantly, he heart Helvetica call something.

 

"Fall back!"

 

She was at the edge of battle, slumped over the neck of her horse with exhaustion and defeat. They were retreating. It was Hellfire's first real loss, and he hadn't realized it would sting this much.

 

They drew away, faster than expected but slower than they should've. Monsters had already admitted defeat, but the humans refused to relent. Even as they turned tail and ran from the forest, archers picked off those who straggled. 

 

Finally, they made it over the hillside. Here, they slowed, weary and still in shock. Their numbers were incredibly thinned, with only a quarter or so left from the original force. Helvetica lead them, hands tight around the reins of her horse. Hellfire walked at her side, and he could tell that the loss burned her. 

 

When they stumbled into camp, Callton was waiting for them with the other generals. He was struck into silence at the haggard crowd. As Hellfire helped Helvetica off her horse, he raced over and found his voice. 

 

"What on earth happened to you?"

 

"The humans' reinforcements arrived mid-battle," Hellfire explained, helping Helvetica limp to the medical tent. 

 

"And her?"

 

Hellfire stared at Callton. "It's a battle injury. She was fighting, and she got hurt."

 

"But she's a skeleton! Surely she can reattach the limb or-"

 

"I'm not made of anything other than dust and magic, just like any other monster," Helvetica interrupted. "My leg got cut off, and it turned to dust. Now, instead of standing around talking, I'd like to do something about it, because I am in a substantial amount of pain right now."

 

Looking at her, Hellfire could see her teeth were clenched, and sweat was beading on her brow. He ducked his head apologetically, and together they went to the medics.

 

It took time for them to recover from the massive loss. Scouts reported the humans spending the time drinking and celebrating, and after a week or so, training. More soldiers meant they needed to figure out how to work together, which bought monsters some time. 

 

With some clever magic, a medic used one of Helvetica's bone attacks and formed it into a rough prothesis for her. She could walk, and insisted she could fight, but she would never be as agile as she once was.

 

A month passed, with normal correspondence from the east and south. The west, however, was quiet. It wasn't until the end of the month that an answer came.

 

Gerson, who had stayed on the western front with Cyprus, stumbled through camp, leaning heavily on one of the scouts. He seemed uninjured, only exhausted. Helvetica hurried to meet the two, guiding them to a seat by one of the campfires. 

 

"Found 'im about a mile south a here," the scout explained. She helped Gerson sit, then turned back to Helvetica and Hellfire. "Hasn't said a single word, just stares off into space."

 

Helvetica knelt next to Gerson. "Can you tell me if you're hurt anywhere?"

 

Slowly, he shook his head, staring vacantly into the fire. 

 

Helvetica turned to the scout. "Get him some food and water," she said quietly. "It seems like he's in some kind of battle shock, so it could be a while before he talks."

 

A moment after the scout left, Gerson spoke up.

 

"They're all dead," he croaked.

 

Hellfire was sure his flame stilled for a moment. Helvetica leaned forwards. "Who? What happened?"

 

Slowly, with a great deal of effort, he tore his eyes from the campfire to look at her. "The western front. Wiped out. They- they're all gone. So many humans..." He trailed off, looking vacant again. Helvetica gripped his shoulder, pulling him back.

 

"I need you to stay with me. Can you explain what happened?"

 

Gerson took a second to collect himself. "The humans. They called for reinforcements, and- and they showed up a couple days ago. And i-it seemed like the more they killed, the less our attacks hurt them, and there were a few that killed _so many_ , and they got so _strong_!" He was talking faster, trembling and spittle flying. "So many monsters are dead, and they didn't even let us take care of the injured ones, and wh-when they found the medical tent, they killed everyone inside, even the medics who couldn't defend themselves! I-I didn't want to leave, but Cyprus, they stopped me and, and said 'they have to know what happened,' and made me leave to come here but I didn't want to leave them, and-"

 

"Wait," Hellfire said. "Cyprus. Did they make it out?"

 

Gerson turned to Hellfire. His eyes were heavy with memories, and his claws were crusted with dust and blood. "Last I saw them, they were running to the medical tent to defend the wounded. Then a couple humans ran after 'em, and came out not two minutes later, covered in dust. I think... I think I'm the only one left."

 

Hellfire felt like a solid block of ice had taken residence in his chest. Cyprus... Dust? The two words felt wrong together, like they shouldn't be in the same paragraph, never mind the same sentence.

 

Monsters had gathered as Gerson spoke, all in horrified silence. Helvetica turned to Hellfire, taking in the crowd. 

 

"There will time to mourn later, but I can't afford for you to break down now." She looked back at Gerson. "So what you're saying is there's _no one_ left at that front?"

 

He shook his head, lost in memory once more. Helvetica gently gripped his arm and helped him stand. "Let's get you to a cot." Aside to Hellfire, she said, "In an hour, meet me in the main tent."

 

He nodded silently. He needed to tell the other elementals. No one else would think to explain it to them, not unless it directly affected them. 

 

Still in a daze, he turned towards their training area. They'd still be there. None of them would follow the gathering crowd unless told to.

 

When he got there, Rock, Ice, Water, and Storm were running team attacks, with Wind directing them. 

 

"Stop!" he called hoarsely. They all dropped weapons and attacks immediately, turning attention. 

 

"Humans have... The western front is..." Why couldn't he say it? "The west was- was destroyed by humans. As far as we know, t-there was only one survivor."

 

The elementals stared silently at him. Some looks mildly distressed or confused, as if they knew they should be upset, but didn't know quite how to be. After a moment, Wind waved the other four back to their training, then walked over to Hellfire.

 

"Will we be moving back west?"

 

"I- I don't know. Listen, that isn't important right now. Cyprus... Cyprus is..."

 

"Are they gone?"

 

"Yes, _fuck_ , they're dead." He could feel something building in his chest, and he didn't know how to stop it. "Cyprus is dead."

 

Wind's face shifted in a mimicry of a furrowed brow. "Are you alright?"

 

"Am I- no! No, I... I..."

 

The feeling in his chest burst and he caved forwards, burying his head against Wind's shoulder. He shuddered, steam pouring from his eyes. Hellfire felt as if he was being consumed by this feeling, this ache, this outpour. He had never felt it, but he knew it. He had heard it in Cyprus's voice, seen in Helvetica's weary bones, in Gerson's shaking hands. This was too much, there was too much inside him, and he could only release it in these heavy sobs into Wind's neck. He leaned against her, forehead pressed to her chest, and gripped her upper arms with trembling fingers. He wanted to shake her, rage at her. Why didn't she care? Why didn't she react?

 

Would she react if Hellfire died?

 

Wind reached up and gently rested her hand on his back. Her hand was cool against him, and he focused on that. He tried to avoid thinking of Cyprus, tried to calm himself, but he couldn't. Their jagged teeth, leathery wings, green scales. Their quiet singing, roughly aggressive voice in battle, they way they swung battle axes. It was gone, and he would never see them again.

 

His mind when back to it was just him, Wind, and Cyprus, with the other four at their backs. The minuscule skirmishes they got in, the way they all defended each other.

 

If Hellfire had been there, would Cyprus still be alive? 

 

Once that thought surfaced, more like it followed. Would he have been enough? Could he have saved not just them, but the rest of the front? Could he have at least bought time for some to escape? Guilt flooded through every part of his being, and he choked on it, gasping around the loss and hate welling inside him. He wasn't even sure who he hated most right now: humans, Cyprus, or himself.

 

\---

 

By the time an hour had passed, Hellfire had collected himself. He felt numb, and his fire was lower and dimmer than normal.

 

Helvetica was waiting for him with Callton and the others. Her face was intensely contemplative. Decades had been added in the curve of her shoulders and the bags under her eyes, and her limp seemed more pronounced as she circled the table to greet him. She rested one hand on his shoulder and gave him a long look before speaking. 

 

"Good, you're here. We can begin." She went back to the other side of the table. "Is there anyone who doesn't know what happened to the western front?"

 

No one responded.

 

"This means we have a huge hole in out defenses. We need to fall back, spread out, and do our best to cover both sides. I'd like to-"

 

"Spread _thinner?_ " Callton exclaimed. "There were double our current numbers out there and how long did it take for them to get destroyed? A week? Less?"

 

Helvetica turned to him, practically snarling. "What do you _suggest_ I do? Leave that whole side open?"

 

"Summon more elementals! A force of fifteen could defend it easily!"

 

"Well, for one thing, all the mages have moved east. It'd be at least a week for them to move out this direction. Even once they did, it takes even more time to build up the magic needed to summon a living being, and we can't afford that. Now, _as I was saying_ , I'd like Hellfire to lead part of our force back west."

 

"Him? But he's-"

 

"An elemental, which you said yourself should go there."

 

"But he-"

 

"Is only a captain? Many generals have died recently, it seems there is an opening."

 

"General, you can't give an _elemental_ that rank-" Callton began protesting.

 

"Hellfire," Helvetica said sharply, "has proved himself powerful, intelligent, and loyal, time and time again. He is capable of leading other soldiers and has served in this army for at least a decade. That is more than any of you bastards have actually spent fighting, and frankly I am sick and tired of high-ranking soldiers, only here because of _politics_ , thinking they can tell me what to do! I am desperate. Monsters are dying in droves, in massacres. This is _extinction._ I would think you have more important things to worry than an elemental being a general, such as the fact that more time we waste arguing, there are more monsters dead. Now," she said cuttingly. "Do I have any more complaints about my decision?"

 

The room was dead silent.

 

"Good. You are all dismissed."

 

Helvetica stopped Hellfire before he left the tent. "As general, you're entitled to more armor. Stop by the blacksmith before you leave, he'll have it for you." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "You'll be leading an entire force on your own. I'm sorry I didn't ask you if you were ready for such a job, but you've been willing and capable this whole time, so I took a risk. Are you ready to have this role, General Hellfire?"

 

He paused. "I don't know. I'll try my best, of course."

 

"Of course you will. You always do."

 

Helvetica dismissed him with a nod. As he walked out, he could feel his earlier hate welling inside him, burning him, washing up his throat like acid. His flames burned hotter, and he could feel himself sending up sparks.

 

Hellfire was ready to earn his name once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone send me an ask on tumblr earlier this week saying they ship cyprus and hellfire  
> @that anon, sorry lmao


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hellfire leads, for the first time, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to my beta, exciting-snail-facts on tumblr!

Though he knew he had to, Hellfire did not want to part from Helvetica. He couldn't put a name to why, but it felt like something gripping his core and twisting, keeping him rooted to where he was. She seemed to understand, however, even as she waved him off to the armory.

 

"I know you always worry about whether or not your leadership is good enough," she told him, "but you'll do fine. We only have about two hundred soldiers left here, so half will go with you, and half with me. Stay close to the base of the mountain, there's less ground to cover. We can't afford to spread ourselves too thin."

 

Correspondences from the south and east described them suffering similar defeats as the north, and falling back as well. Monsterkind was losing ground.

 

At the blacksmiths, a much more grim Percival handed him the new armor, plus a heavy red cloak with it. 

 

"You'll be wantin' these before you go," he said. "The heavier plates'll do you good, plus nothing gets people to listen like a general's getup." He clapped Hellfire on the shoulder once, then vanished back to the forge to finish disassembling it. The whole camp was being collapsed, to move closer to the mountainside. Hopefully, they could finish and be on the move before the humans decided to launch another attack.

 

Clad in his new armor, Hellfire left to collect his troops. One hundred soldiers felt like next to nothing, compared with the two thousand that used to be on the western front when he was first summoned. New monsters were not enlisting and being trained nearly fast enough to replenish the numbers that were killed, but the king adamantly refused to force enlistment. He fought on the eastern lines as well, insisting that anything he asked his subjects to do, he should be willing to do himself.

 

As Hellfire was beginning to make his way out of camp, Callton caught up with him, shedding feathers. "I'll be coming with you. You should have a more experienced leader to help, yes?"

 

He nodded, but he could feel his temperature rising in irritation. Of _course_ he had to be saddled with the one person who spoke not only against his position as general, but every single one of Helvetica's other decisions. She'd probably be glad to see the back of him, but Hellfire knew Callton would be little more than an obstacle for him.

 

Helvetica wasted no time on a long goodbye, simply clasped hands and a, "Good luck. I trust you'll do well." With that, the two groups split, fueled by nothing but hope, or in Hellfire's case, hate.

 

The journey west felt lonely. He spoke as little as possible, only to give simple directions, or to tell them when to stop for the night. The soldiers themselves attempted to fill the silence with conversation, but it was tense and nervous, buzzing like hornets. 

 

As the day turned to night, they came across a large, white field. Dust, as far as the eye could see. Broken down structures and torn canvas were littered throughout. The humans hadn't wanted to leave anything of the old camp behind.

 

Hellfire wondered distantly how many monsters were dust here. Hundreds, thousands even. Looking behind him, he saw the horrified faces of not one hundred looking back at him, faces slack and hands white-knuckled around weapons. 

 

"Let's keep going," he called over them. The silence was only broken by the shift of dust and a slight wind as they gave the field a wide berth, and eventually, left it past the horizon. Mount Ebott loomed ever closer in the distance, casting deep shadows as the sun rose the next morning. As they got close to the base, Hellfire halted everyone and had them settle. This was as good a place to stop as any, as any forces attempting to get to the monster capital on the eastern side of the mountain would be seen here, or stopped by the northern or southern fronts.

 

As they set up camps, Wind approached him. "How soon should we send our scouts to keep an eye on the humans?"

 

"Immediately. If we go to them, we'll get spread out too much, but I don't want to be taken by surprise. Let them come to us. We'll be ready."

 

Scouts left at intervals, with eyes on the humans at all times. Every report was the same: the humans were collecting, with more recruits coming every day. Perhaps they expected retaliation for their destruction of the west, but from what numbers? With so few monsters, they could only hope weather attacks, never mind full on raids. 

 

Humans wanted to destroy every monster, down to the last child. Each moment they lived was an act of rebellion, and that was enough. It had to be enough.

 

Once, a lone human was found. She was brought to Hellfire's tent in tight stone cuffs by Rock and Ice, struggling and cursing the whole time. The two forced her to her knees in front of him, then stepped back. As soon as she was free, she straightened and spat at him. It sizzled and burned away against his fire. Ice reached toward her, but Hellfire held up his hand. It didn't matter.

 

"She was found close to the edge of camp, General," Rock said. "We thought she may just have been scouting for information, until we found this." He handed a note to Hellfire. On it was a call for his death, promising gold to whoever could kill him and bring his core to one of the human monarchs. A bounty hunter, then.

 

"The front lines of a war are dangerous for someone on their own," he said calmly. Humans had wanted him dead for a long time, one alone with only a few daggers wasn't any different. 

 

She snarled, filthy blonde hair hanging in her eyes. "I've killed plenty of war lords before, you're not special." 

 

He crouched down to look her in the eyes. She jerked forwards, teeth bared as if she wanted to rip out his throat, only to be halted by earth coming up to encase her up to the waist. 

 

"I've never had the opportunity to really speak to a human before," he commented. Callton looked startled at that, as if the thought had never occurred to him.

 

Hellfire tilted his head. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

 

"Not like I can stop you," she muttered, eyes narrow.

 

"Why do you hate us so much?" 

 

The room rang with silence. Callton leaned forward, feathers ruffled. "I think, Hellfire, we-"

 

Her laughter cut him off. Loud, raucous laughter, that had her doubled over her stone casing. As she caught her breath, she lifted her head to look him in the eye, her own shining. 

 

"Why? Ask that to the humans that live in fear of monster magic. Ask that to those that die knowing a monster that knows what they're doing could absorb their _soul_ and use it to become even more powerful. Ask that to the leagues of humans that know if we hadn't taken you by surprise, if we had given you even a second to turn on us first, we'd be fucked." Her laughter was gone now, replaced by deep rage and unshed tears. "Ask that to all of the dead children, to their families. Ask my dead wife, who was killed by some wayward magic fifteen years ago. Talk to all them, then _maybe_ I'll take you seriously when you ask me."

 

Hellfire couldn't speak for a moment. "I'm-"

 

"Or, even better! Ask all the kids _you_ killed, with fire and starvation and homelessness. You probably only think about the deaths on the battlefield, but you're responsible for hundreds more. Those fields you burned? The cities? You have _no idea_ the amount of pain you've caused. _That's_ why I hate you. You've destroyed so much, and you have the _gall_ to ask me why we're angry." 

 

Silently, he stood. How could he respond to that? The righteous anger, the hate that burned as hot as his own flame. There was little he could say. 

 

"Thank you for telling me." 

 

Ice stepped forward. "What would you like with to be done with her, General?"

 

Callton spoke first. "We have no use of her. Release-"

 

"Kill her."

 

Callton turned to him, beak open in shock. The human began laughing again. She laughed as twin spurs of ice and stone pierced her chest. She laughed as blood ran down her chin and her laugher turned to choking, until, finally, she fell silent.

 

He hoped she found her wife again.

 

\--

 

One night, Hellfire sat with other soldiers around the coals of a dying fire, the rest quietly talking as he stared into the glowing embers. Behind him, he heard Wind's faint footsteps. She sat next to him on the rotting log and quietly watched a thin coil of smoke drift into the sky. After a moment, she spoke.

 

"What are you thinking of?"

 

"Cyprus. I wish I could see them again."

 

She hesitated, as if unsure if she should ask her next question. "Why?"

 

"Because..." He did his best to gather his thoughts, but her words felt like a rock thrown through glass, leaving him scattered and sharp. "Because they were my friend."

 

"I've heard that word before. What does it mean?"

 

How could he begin to describe something he barely even understood himself? Darwyn's words from so many years ago came to him. They had been used to explain "family", but perhaps the feeling translated. 

 

"Remember your mage? How you want to protect them, above all else?"

 

"It has been a long time since I've seen him, but yes, I remember."

 

"You want to protect him because he created you, and he created you to do so. Friends, you want to protect for no reason at all. There's no reason behind it. You want to spend time with them, and protect them and... And you miss them, when they're not around."

 

Wind seemed deep in thought. "That seems as if it would be distracting."

 

"Well, yes. It's painful, and difficult to understand."

 

"Then why would you bother?"

 

"I'm... I'm not sure. But talking with Helvetica, and being with Cyprus, and spending time with you... It makes me happy. It's nonsensical, and distracting, and all kinds of other things, but it makes me happy."

 

Wind didn't respond. The two sat silently together for the rest of the night.

 

\--

 

Being the farthest from the capital, it took longer for correspondence from the king to reach them. Because of this, a royal letter and a letter from Helvetica reached him at the same time. The messenger handed it to Hellfire, panting and staring vacantly. Callton reached for it, but Hellfire broke the royal seal before he could get his feathers on it. Though they were both technically generals, Hellfire had far more experience than he did.

 

What he had no experience with, however, were the words written on the note.

 

_The King is dead._  
_King Rangore Dreemurr died on the battlefield on the eve of March tenth. He is succeeded by his son Asgore Dreemurr and Asgore's betrothed Toriel. More orders to follow._

 

The king, dead. Hellfire had no idea what this meant, and judging by Callton's expression, he was lost as well. With no other plans, he opened Helvetica's letter.

 

_I'm sure you already know, but the king is dead._  
_His son, Asgore, is a good man, but young and scared. A lot is expected from him right now, and he is not ready for any of it. Heavy losses have been suffered here, and in the east and south. Hopefully, you're faring better than us._  
_We're being called back to defend the capital. All civilians have evacuated their towns to go there, but it's bloated and overcrowded, with not nearly enough soldiers to defend them. If any of these frighteningly powerful humans got in, who knows how many would be slaughtered. We need to defend our civilians, not this mountain._  
_I hope to see you in the capital in two weeks time. Give Callton my regards._  
_Helvetica_

 

"We need to tell our soldiers," Hellfire managed. "It takes a little over a week to get to the capital, and Helvetica said to meet her in the capital in two weeks, so we have some time." Some part of him was glad for the orders, glad that Helvetica had given him a command, because he wasn't sure what he'd be doing otherwise.

 

Callton's long neck was bowed and his eyes were closed. "Long live our new king."

 

The soldiers took the news in silence. Shock, most likely. The king seemed untouchable, incredibly fierce in battle, firm and stoic with his citizens, built like Mount Ebott itself and always ready to defend those who needed it. Helvetica had described him in all of those ways and more, and Hellfire regretted never having met him. If King Rangore could be killed, who else? No one was safe. Not children, not soldiers, not kings. 

 

The camp was still reeling when one of the scouts, the one that Hellfire remembered had found Gerson, raced in a few days later, single eye wide and rolling. 

 

"The humans are on their way! They're coming!"

 

Hellfire felt his resolve harden. "Good. I was wondering when they'd finally meet us."

 

"No, you don't understand! There's so many, hundreds, maybe a thousand! What're a hundred of us s'posed to do?" She ran her hands over her twin horns in a panic, so he reached down and grabbed them. 

 

"We fight, and we survive. That's all we can do."

 

She took a deep breath, then calmed slightly. "They should be here 'bout noon tomorrow. Hope that's enough time get ready."

 

"We've had a week here, some plans have already been drawn up for various situations."

 

It was true. With nothing else to do, and the captains taking control of running drills, Callton and Hellfire spent most of their time debating tactics. One of those plans - Hellfire's ideas, mostly - would be used the next day.

 

The elementals gathered then as the sun rose and Callton described their plan. 

 

"Where are we going?" asked Wind as the others stood behind her silently. 

 

"You'll be farther back," Hellfire responded. "You're the last line of defense on this front, and we need you to be able to stop anyone who gets past the rest of us."

 

"...Will you not be joining us?"

 

He paused. When was the last time he'd fought side by side with the other elementals? But, no, he couldn't afford to think like that right now. "I'm sorry, Wind, but I'm a general now. I need to lead the bulk of our troops in the front, and I trust you to lead the rear guard." 

 

She nodded, but the swirling breezes that formed her face blew tighter, faster, as if she was thinking. Though he paused a moment, she didn't say whatever was on her mind, so he dismissed her. Bothered him as it may, he had other things to do besides wait for her to tell him what she was thinking. They'd have a week and a half journey to the capital to discuss whatever was on her mind.

 

Rather than wait any further, Hellfire went to join his soldiers. Callton, of course, would be staying behind, along with a few guards, but Hellfire couldn't find it within himself to care. All he could feel was hate, hate that he'd kept neatly burned down until now. Now, he wouldn't hold back. The sun blazed high in the sky, making the air shimmer with heat, but Hellfire would burn hotter. He would melt his way through every one of these humans if he had to, these creatures that killed all they came across, that sought out more to kill simply for the power it gave them.

 

 _'You've killed, too. Humans hate you for the same reason you hate them,'_ a quiet voice in the back of his mind murmured, but he burned the thought and buried its ashes in images of Cyprus, and Helvetica, and Wind, and the hundred monsters standing at his side. 

 

It wasn't long before the smell of the humans was carried over the horizon. They followed soon after, filthy and angry and so, so numerous. The loox scout was right - hundreds, maybe a thousand of them, all screeching for dust. As soon as they got closer, a burst of adrenaline forced Hellfire forward. One flick of his hands, and walls of fire burst forth to his left and right. Some humans skidded to a halt, some jumped through the flames, and some collapsed and fell inside it. As the humans fell to his fire, the battle had begun.

 

Sword drawn and heavy in his hand, Hellfire let humans come to him. There was certainly no shortage of them - for every human he killed, two more replaced them. Dust, smoke, and blood filled the air almost immediately, thick enough that his flames sputtered. 

 

Despite their physicality, the humans were easy to kill. Remove a limb, cut their stomach or chest deeply enough, and if the blood loss didn't kill them the shock probably would. Hellfire himself had plenty of scattered wounds, but as long as he could still stand, he could still fight. His blood red cloak swept behind him as he fought, flames licking the edges of it. 

 

Though time was difficult to judge in the heat of battle, it felt like hours later when Hellfire noticed something - about twenty humans breaking off from the fight and racing towards the camp itself. Without a moment's hesitation, he gave chase, only to see another group on the other side of the fight do the same. He started towards them, but there were two groups of them, and he couldn't be two places at once. With a roar of frustration, he continued after the first group. He could deal with the other ones later.

 

These humans were slow - Hellfire caught up easily and attacked. Twenty against one felt like absolutely nothing, time blurring and burning as he cut through them in twos and threes, whirling to defend his back and hyperaware of every body around him. He had to hurry - there were more humans headed to camp, and they needed to be stopped. 

 

There was no time to feel victorious when they were dead, bleeding and burnt in equal measure. He raced off towards the other side of camp, the side the humans had been coming towards. 

 

The sight of the first corpses slowed him. It looked as if four of them had slipped on a wide sheet of ice, then been impaled on huge spurs of rock. One was still struggling, but Hellfire ignored it, each step melting thorough the ice that warm blood had already thinned.

 

More scattered bodies were blackened by electricity, or soaked by water. Some had been knocked back and cracked their fragile skulls into rocks, probably by Wind. But where were the other elementals? 

 

Something crunched under his boot.

 

It took a moment for his mind to process what he was seeing. Glassy, clear, with a dying glow. 

 

An elemental core. It wasn't the only one, either. A short distance away, there was another. And another. And another.

 

Four cores. All five of the elementals he had trained with, had spent all these years with, raced frantically through his head. Who was still left, besides him? Water? Rock? Ice? Storm?

 

Wind? 

 

Oh god, _Wind._

 

He raced through the camp, desperation nipping at his heels. His only thought was a panicky cycle of " _not her too oh god please not her_ ," over and over and over.

 

Turning a corner, he saw her. She was _alive_ , right at on the edge of camp. She was fighting two humans at once, just barely managing to to dodge. Her steps were slow and her magic was flagging, but she was still alive.

 

Hellfire _sprinted._ He could feel flames racing up his arms and snapping at the end of his cloak, and he knew he was terrifying to behold. One of the humans, hearing his approach, looked up, then wildly backpedaled. They fell over, still scrabbling away. The other human didn't look away from their fight. Rather, they took their sword and thrust it through the center of Wind's chest.

 

He reached the human, blade drawn. They were dead before they hit the ground. 

 

Wind had collapsed, chest heaving. The sword was still inside her, but he didn't try to remove it. It was too late to save her, and doing so might crack her core faster. He knelt by her head, one hand just below the wound, one cradling her head. "Be still. The medics will find us. You will be healed, I promise." 

 

She may have laughed, but it sounded more like a gasping choke. "Friend." 

"Y-yes?" 

A breath rattled in her chest, and she dissolved into a soft breeze. Hellfire could only clutch her empty armor. 

The second human was still sitting on the ground, frozen in shock at the scene. Hellfire felt rage, rage, _rage_ , and his flames responded. Fire burst from him in all directions, blazing white hot. They never had a chance. 

Grass blackened, air boiled, smoke filled the sky. 

Hellfire _burned_. He burned, until he had no rage left to fuel him. His fires died, and all he felt was hollow. 

Reaching inside the armor, he found her core. A cracked, glassy orb, it's warm glow dying like a fire's last ember. Gently, gently, he held it to his chest. After another moment, it finally crumbled into dust. 

He wasn't sure how long it took for him to move again. After what could have been hours or only a moment, he stood. The rest of the soldiers were still fighting, he couldn't just leave them to be killed without standing at their side. 

Time felt like it was moving like molasses, thick and dripping. It felt like it was only a blink until he was standing at the edge of camp, looking over the battlefield. 

Monsterkind was losing. 

They were fighting bravely even as their numbers were halved, then quartered. Perhaps twenty monsters versus hundreds upon hundreds. They didn't stand a chance. 

He wouldn't let more monsters die. Though it burned like acid in his throat, he called out, "Fall back!" 

They turned at his voice. Some hesitated, some looked relieved, all pulled away. Some humans chased after the retreating soldiers, but Hellfire stepped forwards and threw out another wall of flame. He was scraping the bottom of his magic reserves, but he couldn't find it within himself to care. As soon as every monster was safely behind him, he turned and ran with them, moving to the from of the group. 

A cry of victory rose behind him, humanity cheering as the monsters turned and ran. 

\-- 

"What?" 

"We lost, Callton. The elementals are dead. There are twenty four of us left. We need to go to the capital, as Helvetica said." 

They should've done that originally. Hellfire let his hate, his thirst for revenge, cloud his thoughts, and now over seventy monsters had been killed. More death he was responsible for. 

"Will the humans be following us?" Callton asked, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to follow Hellfire's long stride. 

"Unlikely. We'll send some flying scouts in the air to keep an eye on them, to make sure they don't. Perhaps you can join them and be useful for once." 

"I beg your pardon?" Callton said indignantly, but Hellfire ignored him. They needed to keep moving. 

He gave the soldiers a few minutes to collect any important personal goods, and they were off. 

Hellfire caught himself staring vacantly forward more and more often, and a familiar pressure in his chest was growing. He shoved it down harshly. This feeling would only serve to slow his steps and weaken his resolve. 

He had already broken down once. He couldn't afford to do it again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hot shit that took way longer than it should have I am so sorry  
> I've noticed even numbered chapters take like two weeks and odd numbered ones take like two days, so if the pattern continues the next one should be out a lot sooner!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hellfire reaches the capital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said this wouldn't take ages  
> I am so sorry

The capital felt both decades and minutes away. Time moved in strange skips and hops. One moment he was talking to Callton. He was staring at the sky in the middle of the night, watching as the stars all shone uselessly. He was meeting with the southern general. It seemed that their few numbers were commonplace, as the southern front couldn't have had more than fifty left. 

 

"All our elementals were killed as well," the general told him. "Not sure why, but they took the cores. Maybe they're trying to summon elementals to fight for them?"

 

Hellfire shook his head at that, but didn't respond. Could they summon elementals without mages? That was just what they needed - humans with a force of elementals. 

 

With less than eighty soldiers soldiers to worry about, the rest of the journey was quick. They reached the capital the same day as the northern front, just a few hours before. It had probably been a beautiful city once. White stone buildings shone in the early morning sun, and flowers in a thousand colors lined roads and spilled over window boxes. The paths were smooth stone, inlaid with runes. However, it was hard to find it beautiful when the air was heavy with the scent of old blood and sick. The arrival of soldiers plus close quarters and overcrowding spread disease and resulted in a stench to rival humans. Looking closer, Hellfire could see that many of the flowers were wilted and brown, with everyone too busy to worry about watering them. Filth was crusted on the mosaic paths and low on the walls of every building. 

 

As soon as they stepped into the city walls, Hellfire lost control of his soldiers. The city was packed full of monsters, and everyone was desperate to find their loved ones. The streets were crowded with family and spouses and friends and children. Names were shouted, people were pushed, arms were tightly wrapped around someone thought never to be seen again.

 

He wasn't really sure what to do with himself. Everyone had someone to greet, to hold, to mourn. Who did he have?

 

Rather than trying to cut through the crowd, he stayed close to the city gate. Tension thrummed through his body, and he stayed stiff and alert. Humans could come at any time, and someone needed to be ready.

 

After only five hours of him standing on guard, citizens and soldiers settling and beginning to relax, the northern front arrived. They were almost as few as the south, with maybe sixty or seventy soldiers, lead by Helvetica with Gerson at her side.

 

Twenty in the west, thirty in the east, fifty in the south, and seventy in the north. Their army had gone from almost ten thousand to not even two hundred in what felt like no time at all. 

 

Within a moment, he was at Helvetica's side. Her armor was brown with dried blood, but her back was straight and her limp was barely noticeable. 

 

"Hellfire. Good to see you're alright," she said briskly. "Have you seen Gaster?"

 

"I've yet to meet anyone named Gaster."

 

She gave him a dry look. "You haven't bothered to meet anyone, have you?" They walked together along the winding city streets. Hellfire assumed she knew where she was going. 

 

"How many of your battalion is left?" she asked.

 

"Twenty four, not including myself and Callton."

 

There was a long pause. "And the other elementals?"

 

Citizens looked as they walked past. Two generals, one covered in blood, one made of pure fire, discussing the battlefield. Most didn't hide their stares. Some obviously tried to listen to their conversation. Helvetica paid them no mind, so Hellfire ignored them as well.

 

"On our side... They're gone. In the south as well. I'm not sure how many are left here."

 

She looked grim. "The same. They're being targeted, and their cores taken before any mage can reform them. Gaster may-"

 

"We."

 

"I'm sorry?"

 

" _We_ are being targeted. I am an elemental."

 

"Of course, I didn't mean to insinuate otherwise." She looked mildly uncomfortable. "Gaster may know why the cores are being taken."

 

They walked in silence the rest of the way. The air was hazy with heat, muggy and thick. It wasn't long until they reached one of the bigger buildings in the city, but Helvetica didn't go to the front door. Instead, she went around to the back, where a heavy wooden door lead to a cellar of some kind.

 

"I'd be shocked if he wasn't down here," she said idly, hauling open the door. With a wave, she descended underground, Hellfire at her back.

 

The cellar was obviously windowless, but well lit, with plenty of scattered candles. There were tools and instruments scattered about that Hellfire had no name for, and the air was cool against his flames. The rest of the room was organized chaos, with books and papers and bottles of ink scattered and stacked everywhere. The floor and walls were covered in stains. At the farthest table, a man was hunched over a sample of dust, scrawling notes onto yellowed pages. On the floor next to him was a young, snoring boy, with an infant swaddled in red sleeping on his chest.

 

"'Dings?" called Helvetica. 

 

The man - Gaster? - turned around. His clothes were rumpled, ink was spilled down his front, and it looked as if he hadn't slept in days, but seeing Helvetica seemed to lift years from his shoulders. "Helvetica?"

 

They moved as one, meeting in the center of the room. Helvetica tiled her head down, gently touching her forehead to Gaster's. Hellfire felt as if he was intruding on the moment, but stood quietly by the entrance. Helvetica would let him know if she wanted him to leave. He could hear her quietly murmur, "Still holed up in your lab? Seems nothing changes."

 

After a moment, she lifted her head, moving to the napping children. She crouched next to them, ghosting her hand over their skulls. "They should rest. It's been a long few days."

 

"Asgore was kind enough to give us this place to stay - with a place for me to research, no less, but the boys are still exhausted. It's a small blessing that they're still so young, I doubt they will remember much of this in the future."

 

Helvetica stood again. "You make it sound as if you believe the war is ending soon."

 

Gaster dropped his gaze to the floor, white lights in his eyes going dimmer. "I believe that will come up at the gathering later. King Asgore would like to meet with the higher generals and his advisors, to decide what to do next. You'll be coming, I'm sure?"

 

"Of course. Do you have any information on what's being done with the elemental cores?"

 

His eyes went vacant. "Yes. Some collected from others, a bit of conjecture, and my own eyewitness account."

 

Helvetica rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment. "When is the meeting?"

 

"A little after noon."

 

"Dear..."

 

Gaster closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. "It's already started, hasn't it? You'd think I'd know better than to get caught up in my experiments, especially in times like these. We need to find somewhere for the boys to be, I can't imagine a bunch of soldiers would be too pleased about a toddler and an infant joining us. Asgore will not mind if we're a little late." 

 

Helvetica walked to where the two were sleeping and effortlessly scooped them up. Depositing the younger in Gaster's hands, she asked, "Do you know of somewhere they can go?"

 

"The neighbor across the street," he replied, already headed up the stairs. Hellfire followed quietly behind. "Lovely woman, brought us cinnamon buns yesterday. She has two children herself, adolescent girls, I believe."

 

"Hopefully she won't mind us dropping these two off at such short notice," Helvetica said. "But then, they might just sleep the whole time." Not even her and Hellfire's heavy boots hitting the stone path had been enough to wake them.

 

Hellfire followed behind as Gaster and Helvetica dropped their children off with a cheerful-looking red rabbit, then quickly moved to the castle.

 

As expected, Asgore was unbothered by their late arrival. The meeting hadn't even technically started yet, as he had taken the time to serve everyone tea beforehand. A woman on his right at the circular table, who must have been Toriel. Both she and Asgore looked lost, as if they had no idea what they were supposed to be doing. Hellfire suspected they we holding hands under the table. 

 

He noted with dull satisfaction that he had been chosen to represent the west rather than Callton.

 

Once everyone had sat down, Asgore stood. He floundered for a moment, them spoke. 

 

"So, ah, how was everyone's journey here?"

 

Most were quiet, with only a few hushed whispers to fill the silence. Finally, Helvetica saved him. 

 

"Your Majesty," she began, standing. "My battalion was attacked multiple times on our journey here. As you can see, I haven't had a chance to clean my armor. We managed to fight them off, but our numbers were halved in the process." She sat again, dramatic in neither speech nor manner.

 

The southern general said near the same. Many attacks, heavy losses. After a pause, Hellfire realized it was his time to speak.

 

"The western front was hit by a force near ten times our size about a week and a half ago," he said as he stood. "Our elementals were all killed. I..." He paused, took a breath. "I am the only one now, unless any others are summoned. There is a quarter of our original numbers left."

 

The room was quiet. Every person around the table tried to find something to hold on to, a point of hope, but there was nothing. 

 

Gaster spoke up from between Helvetica and Asgore. "We must talk about why the elementals are being targeted."

 

"Isn't it simply because they're powerful?" asked the southern general.

 

"Perhaps originally, but not anymore. You all know of the increase of power that humans gain when they kill, yes?"

 

Nods all around.

 

"As a human kills more, they start to become affected by the sheer amount of magic they've absorbed, as that is what that gain is based in. They are able to give of waves of pure magic. However, for a time, it was weak and unfocused. Those that killed more gained stronger magic, but still could not control it. Eventually, they discovered something that they could use to channel their newfound abilities: elemental cores.

 

"Their magic is not specific or unique like our own. It is pure, devastating waves, and as they kill, they get stronger, and they can kill more." His voice got quieter as he continued, as if it was harder and harder to speak.

 

"How did you discover this?" asked one of the advisors.

 

"I- I was..." His speech faded entirely, and he looked frustrated for a moment. After a glance at Helvetica, he switched to simply moving his hands, with Helvetica speaking for him.

 

"Our village was attacked by a few human with the beginning traces of magic. Wiped out. We used to live far south, but were chased north by those few. Cities, towns, all destroyed. Tens of thousands of monsters killed by their devastation. They - dear, slow down - they attacked, then used our own magic against us. Monsters have absorbed human souls in the past, one even absorbed three, but they were all killed before they could destroy the most powerful humans. I've studied the dust of one of those monsters, and though the combination was powerful, it wouldn't have been able to last. I believe very, very few monsters have powerful enough souls to wield the strength of a human soul. The humans can use our magic, but us? We have nothing." Gaster finished his speech with one last violent swipe of his hands.

 

The room was silent. Hellfire was in shock. Humans, with magic? Not only that, but ones that needed the life force of an elemental to channel it. It seemed too fantastic to be true, but the vacant horror on Gaster's face was in no way fake. Asgore rested a gentle hand on Gaster's shoulder, and Helvetica tightly gripped his hand. 

 

Finally, one of the king's advisors spoke up. "What will we do? How can we fix this?"

 

Asgore looked at Toriel, and she at him. Both looked lost and very, very scared. Hellfire was suddenly struck with how young they were, how inexperienced. Asgore looked only slightly older than him, and had been king of a war-torn people for not even a month. Now, he was faced with choices that not even the most experienced of leaders would want. 

 

Toriel spoke after a long silence. Her words were slow, halting. "We have been wondering if we could perhaps find a... Peaceful solution."

 

Immediate chaos. People stood, shouted their dissent. Five remained seated: Hellfire, Helvetica, Gaster, Asgore, and Toriel. Hellfire was in shock. Peace? With the humans? Cyprus - the name still hurt to think about - had made it clear from their first meeting that the humans were definite enemies. They had spoken later about having human friends, but that was in the past. Humanity had shown their true colors as creatures fueled only by hate, and the king and queen wanted _peace_? He looked to Helvetica; surely she would stop this.

 

Her brow was heavily drawn. "And you truly believe that this will end the war? The death?"

 

He almost recoiled. What was she saying? She couldn't be _conceding_ to this madness.

 

"I do," said Asgore.

 

"I don't know if an attempt at peace will truly resolve this," replied Helvetica. The room was quiet, watching their interaction. "But if you believe it will bring the war to an end, I am willing to try it." 

 

Toriel raised her hands to preemptively quell any outbursts. "Perhaps we could try a vote. All in favor, please raise your hand."

 

Helvetica raised hers, as did Gaster and a few others. Hellfire abstained, along with most of the room. Helvetica gave him an odd look, but he ignored it. 

 

Asgore's head was bowed, though Hellfire couldn't tell if it was in contemplation or simply under the weight of his crown. "I will have to think about this. Thank you all for your input. Now, would anyone like more tea?"

 

People trickled out of the room in pairs, head bowed and whispering. Hellfire stayed seated, staring ahead.

 

As it turned out, Asgore's plan for peace was never to be. In the weeks following, human armies crept closer and closer to the capital, and his advisors out more and more pressure on him to take the battle to the humans. By the time he decided that perhaps they were right, humans were pounding on the castle gates.

 

"Hellfire!" called Helvetica, pushing through crowds of panicked civilians. "We need to get the people to somewhere safe! There's a cave system at the foot of the mountain that opens up in the back of the city, I'll lead people that way. You get to the wall, and tell any citizens you see to go there."

 

He nodded, then raced towards the wall. Masses of monsters heaved through the streets, directionless and afraid. The air rang with shouts of names and wordless screams of pain and panic. Hellfire did his best to move through the throng, concentrating hard to keep from giving off sparks, but the constantly shifting mass did him no favors. By the time he reached the city walls, the massive doors were thudding against the draw bar under the heavy blows of what was presumably a battering ram. Archers and those with stronger magic lined the top of the wall, raining blows on the mass of humans beneath. In front of the gates stood the last remaining threads of the monster army, plus some citizens that recognized the desperation for soldiers and took up arms. They were breathless and silent, watching as the gates heaved into its locks over and over. Monsters from the top of the wall fell, and rained dust onto the crowd below, but no one moved. They could only wait as their destruction came for them. A sense of finality filled the air; this was monsterkind's last stand.

 

Hellfire skirted the crowed to go to the top of the wall. Perhaps he could set the army ablaze, stop them before the battle truly started. He was only halfway up the stairs, however, when the gates groaned their last, bursting open in a shower of splinters and dust.

 

A breath, and the humans were upon them. 

 

Hellfire didn't want to think about the sheer number of humans that lay in wait behind the wall. Rather, he recognized the gate for the advantage it was: a choke point. It didn't matter how many there were, because they all had to filter through that one entrance. He descended the stairs in twos and threes, forcing his way to the gate. If he could block it with fire, humans would either have to wait for it to die, giving more civilians time to move to safety, or risk injury by going through it. 

 

He never had the chance to try. The writhing mass of humans blocked him from reaching the gateway, and not even his flame-wreathed sword could cut through it. He killed human after human, blood sizzling against his armor, but they never ended. Smoke and dust filled the sky, further thickening the already heat-hazed air. Blades bit into his armor, but he could still stand, so he could still fight. 

 

Despite the imbalance in numbers, monsterkind was ferocious. Huge waves of magic turned the heavy air a myriad of colors and forced back scores of humans. Hellfire desperately tried to avoid thinking of how useful the other elementals would be here - Rock and Ice, to help barricade the gates; Wind, to push them back through; Water and Storm to electrocute the whole mass at once. They were dead, they couldn't help, it was useless to dwell on them. He focused instead on his own magic, sending out flame in swaths and bursts. Satisfaction and incredulousness whirled inside him as he realized - the humans were falling back!

 

A heavy thud rang out, freezing soldiers mid-battle. Another thud. a crunch, and the wall exploded inward. Debris rained down, crushing monsters and humans alike under heavy stone and wood reinforcements. 

 

As the dust cleared, Hellfire could make out two humans standing atop the rubble. The setting sun caught on shining pieces inlaid their breastplates.

 

Elemental cores.

 

Their hands and eyes glowed white, the color of pure magic. The battle was frozen, as if the sky itself was holding its breath. Hellfire himself was in shock. Two humans had done this, had destroyed this massive wall, had killed who knew how many soldiers from both sides. This was the power of only two. Humans already had the strength to resist, to outlast, to be so damnably _determined_ to survive, and now they had the same grip as monsters over magic. 

 

There were more than two of these humans as well. After a pause, six more slowly emerged through the haze, all with cores imbedded in their chests.

 

Two had destroyed the wall. What horrors could eight unleash?

 

They showed their strength immediately. White walls of magic flowed from their outstretched hands, killing anything it touched indiscriminately. Many ran from the sight, dropping weapons and pushing through crowds in their panic to get away from the abominations before them.

 

A voice called over the din, "Fall back! Defend the people!"

 

The monsters needed no further encouragement. They drew back gladly, doing their best to avoid the devastating waves of magic coursing through the city streets. As they worked their way backwards, back to the caves the citizens were hidden it, the humans refused to relent. They followed doggedly, without end, destroying everything they touched. Buildings collapsed, possessions were destroyed, and Hellfire couldn't help but wildly think that this was revenge for the cities he burned. Was this how it had felt? This feeling of intrusion, this pervading feeling of the creatures he hated worming their way into every crevice of his people's life and _clenching_ , was this how it had been for humans?

 

His jaw tightened as he removed the head of the human nearest to him, then whirled to the next one. There was no time for thoughts like that. 

 

Mount Ebott loomed ever closer at his back, massive and cold. The only objective witness to this war.

 

As twilight began to encroach across the sky, the dark silhouettes of the humans pushed them further. Hellfire's harsh glow cast heavy contrasts on the people around him, bright and flickering. 

 

Without warning, the humans' magic changed. No longer were they the waves of death, but rather broad, heavy walls that simply served to push monsters further back. They were being corralled.

 

When one of the walls hit him, he attempted to remain where he was. Perhaps, if he could push through, he could kill at least one of the magic wielders and even out the battle. It was useless. The walls were impenetrable, burning against his fire. Pure magic, even purer than him. 

 

The cave opened behind them, a black maw ready to devour the last dregs of monsterkind. In the gloom, he could see the frightened faces of civilians, of children, staring frozen at the battle. They were going to be forced into the caves, where they would presumably be hunted like vermin until their extinction.

 

_"No,"_ thought Hellfire. _"I refuse."_

 

With a wordless roar, he charged forward, sword swinging. The nearest human, elemental core glowing, hissed in surprise, raising their hands to ward him off. He dodged the burst of magic, ducking under their hands to drive his sword under their ribs. They stumbled back before he could strike, drawing their own blade and coating it in a shimmering white layer of magic. Their blades clashed in a massive shockwave, showering the field in orange and white sparks. They fought to overpower each other, pushing sword against sword. Realizing the power struggle was a waste of energy, Hellfire spun around the human and swung for their back. They turned with him, blocking his sword and thrusting towards the center of his chest. He was both hyperaware of the battle around him and focused intensely on the person before him. Sparks flew in the air and singed the skin of fleshed creatures. The human audibly thrummed with magic, and it flowed off their person in near constant waves. He ducked, whirled, slashed, but they blocked him every time, striking back with everything they had. Adrenaline and hate coursed through his body, and he fed them and let them grow. Exhaustion began to weigh heavy on his steps, but he couldn't stop fighting. He would stand until he couldn't any longer. 

 

Off to the side, another fight moved closer to them. It was Gerson, swinging his war hammer and snarling. One of his strikes overshot, and his hammer flew close to Hellfire and the human he was fighting. They ducked instinctively, and Hellfire saw his chance. He had to move quickly, while they were distracted. Before they had a chance to rebalance themself, he leapt forward and ran his sword through their chest, over and over. He let his hate and rage wash over him, pushing his flame higher and hotter as he stabbed them again and again. Blood splattered on his face and armor, burning away immediately. By the time the haze of anger fell away, their chest was a bloody, disgusting pulp, overrun with liquid magic and viscera. His breathing heavy, he turned back to the battle and fell upon the humans once more.

 

Seven magical humans left.

 

So distracted by the fight, he hadn't realized how far back monsters had fallen. They were right in the mouth of the cave, but strangely, the humans were falling back. They drew away into a formless mass, simply... watching. Hellfire would have followed, would have rained fire and destruction on the entire army, but magical walls kept forcing them further and further back. Citizens and soldiers both shouted in fear and confusion, and children wailed. What were the humans doing?

 

The seven magicians left stepped forward, a noticeable hole in their line where the eighth was supposed to stand. Everyone stood frozen as together, they lifted their hands. A thin, shimmering wall ate through the air to rapidly cover the entrance. The humans were caging them in.

 

Hellfire wanted to move, to charge, to slay every single one of the humans that wanted to contain them, but he couldn't move. By the time he began to move forward, the barrier had already sealed shut with a quiet hiss. Only hazy twilight shone through.

 

The war was over, the battle was lost. Monsterkind was trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reaching the end


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is a fire without something to burn?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start by thanking you all so, so much for your support. I've deleted the note to retain the flow of the story, but all of your comments were saved, as they were what got me motivated to finish chapters for both my stories. While I'm not sure they're up to my usual standard, and this doesn't mean I'll be back on a more regular schedule (or as regular as I get), finishing them has helped me get past a kind of road block, so hopefully future chapters will come more quickly. Thank you all so much for understanding and supporting me in this time.

The spell broke as soon as the barrier whispered shut. Monsters crashed against it, desperately battering with fists and weapons. It only gave a hazy twilight shining through, without even the silhouettes of their captors.

  
Hellfire was still. They were trapped underground. They had failed. _He_ had failed.

  
Wails filled the air. Children sobbed, people shouted names despairingly.

  
Someone grabbed his arm. It was someone he had never seen before, sobbing and clutching at him.

  
"What are we supposed to do?" they choked around tears. "Where are we supposed to go?"

  
Revulsion filled him, and he tried to tug his arm away. People surrounded him, pawing at his armor and wailing. A chorus of pleas rang out. His chest felt tight. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't- He wasn't-

  
A old, soft voice cut through the the crowd. "Can I get through, please? 'Scuse me, everyone."

  
It was Darwyn.

  
The crowd, realizing they wouldn't get an answer, started to turn away, looking for another savior, but Hellfire didn't notice. It was _Darwyn._

  
"Hey, Fiery," Darwyn said quietly.

  
Hellfire had lost so much. Close friends, people he had only met in passing, soldiers he was responsible for. All dust. But Darwyn was here. Hellfire's first real friend, the one who had treated him as something more.

  
He caved in on himself, leaning down to grip his friend in a tight, desperate hug. Darwyn patted his back with a gentle hand.

  
"Heard you got yourself a name. Gonna be honest, I don't like it much more than Flame."

  
Hellfire choked out a laugh, but it might have been a sob. He wasn't sure how long he was there, holding on to Darwyn like he was the last safe place in the world.

  
After a long while, he drew back. He was almost embarrassed - breaking down like a child as soon as an old friend said hello. Darwyn held onto his shoulder as he pulled away, giving him a long look.

  
"You probably have some other friends to find, but, ah, don't forget to come find me later, yeah?"

  
Hellfire nodded solemnly. "We have a lot to talk about."

  
"Always so serious!" laughed Darwyn. Cheerful even in the face of this, it seemed. He hobbled off, leaning on a cane that Hellfire hadn't noticed.

  
Hellfire pushed through the shifting mass of people. Where was Helvetica? Gaster?

  
It didn't take long to find Gaster. He was standing close to the barrier, studying it with narrowed eyes. A flurry of skeletal hands surrounded him, taking measurements and writing notes. Two hands cradled the red-swaddled infant, with another wiggling its fingers above the child's waving arms. The older of the two children clutched at Gaster's pant leg, tear stains tracing his cheekbones. One of the many hands patted his skull absently.

  
"Gaster?"

  
"Hm? Oh, Hellfire," Gaster said, turning to him. None of his hands paused in their work. "Quite a predicament, here. Something will have to be done." There was a shrewd glint in his eye, and Hellfire could see why he had been named the Royal Scientist.

  
"Do you know where Helvetica is?"

  
"Well, I imagine she's organizing citizens, calming everyone down and the like. She... Oh, _shit._ "

  
Gaster scooped up his children and bolted. His extra hands dissolved, leaving scattered pages and some smashed bottles of ink in the dirt. Hellfire turned and raced after him, bewildered.

  
"Where are we going?" he called after Gaster.

  
"Helvetica is _claustrophobic_!" Gaster shouted back. "Oh, gods, where is she?" The younger child began to wail, clutching at Gaster's collar.

  
Claustrophobic? "But she was the one who suggested citizens hide in the caves!" She wouldn't have done that if being their would frighten her, right?

  
"That's even worse! Now she'll blame herself for us being here, while also panicking about being trapped!"

  
He hadn't even thought about that. Oh, god, was she alright?

  
Together, they pushed through the crowd, searching for Helvetia. Neither called her name. They knew she would be humiliated if people knew she might be having a panic attack.

  
Finally, Gaster grabbed Hellfire's arm and tugged him behind an outcropping of rock near the mouth of the cavern. Helvetica was there, sitting on the ground with her knees drawn to her chest. Her hands were fisted on the ground next to her, and her eyes were tightly shut. Hellfire might have thought her to be asleep, if not for her heaving, fast breaths.

  
"Helvetica?" Gaster said quietly, crouching in front of her. He made no move to touch her, only spoke quietly. "Helvetica, love, please, can you open your eyes?"

  
She cracked one socket open, jaw still clenched. "Have you taken a long look at the cage I shoved us all in, yet?"

  
"Dear, you couldn't have known." Slowly, he lifted her hands and held them, gentle and soft so she could pull away. "You couldn't have known humans could be this cruel. None of us knew."

  
Looking closer, Hellfire could see that she was shaking. The two children had climbed out of Gaster's lap to Helvetica's, pressing themselves to her chest. She curled closely around them, still shuddering. He crouched next to her, and hesitantly put one hand on her shoulder. He couldn't help but feel that this was too private, but Helvetica was his friend. He didn't want to leave without knowing she was alright.

  
He wasn't sure how long they sat there. It could have been an hour, or mere minutes. Helvetica relaxed in minute increments, so slowly Hellfire could hardly see it happen. Finally, after the children had long since fallen asleep against her, she sighed, long and soft.

  
"I'm sorry. There's so much we need to do, and I'm wasting time acting like a child."

  
"Love, you're not wasting time," Gaster said, leaning over to press their foreheads together. "You just needed a moment to breathe."

  
"Hyperventilate, more like," she muttered, shifting her children in her arms so she could stand. "Could you keep an eye on these two? I need to help Asgore calm everyone down and direct them. I'm sure you want to study the barrier a little more as well."

  
Gaster laughed humorlessly, standing and taking the two carefully so they didn't wake up. "Alright, dear. Come find me in a couple hours, yes? Don't be afraid to take a break if you need it. Keep Hellfire with you, just in case."

  
Helvetica crossed her arms. "I'm not going to shatter apart. I'll be alright, I just got worked up. I can take care of everyone else. Hellfire can, too, he doesn't have to follow me around." She turned and stalked off, then looked back. "And don't you dare tell him to tail me, Dings!" With that, she vanished into the gloom. She heavily favored her good leg, but her shoulders were squared.

  
"Well," Gaster said, sighing. "I can't say I'm surprised. She hates feeling weak. Had I not interfered, she probably would have rested, but now she's going to stay up and working just to show she can. Try not to follow her, she'll notice immediately, but do keep an eye out. I worry."

  
"Of course. I'll make sure to be there if she starts panicking again."

  
"Oh, you won't know. She can be very good at hiding those kinds of things if she needs to. Soldier above all else, yes?"

  
Hellfire nodded, then followed after Helvetica.

  
He had expected more panic, honestly. Everyone's initial rush of the barrier had screamed of desperation and mass fear, but it seemed the crowd had quieted while he had been with Helvetica and Gaster. They looked lost now, shuffling about in an aimless mass. Everyone was directionless. The hiccups of crying children echoed in the massive chamber, underlaid with rumbling whispers.

  
He was supposed to be telling these people what to do, where to go, but he didn't know himself. What could they do?

  
Many saw his armor and, recognizing him as a soldier, came up to ask him what was going on. He repeated the same few phrases endlessly: "Stay calm, please. There will be more orders soon. Stay together. We will be told what to do soon."

  
The cave smelled of must and damp. Twilight shone through the barrier, unchanging.

  
As people quietly moved about, Hellfire heard someone clear her throat behind him. He turned, his prepared words already at his lips, but they died before he could speak.

  
It was his mage.

  
Gone were her fine robes and jewelry, replaced with ragged fur and worn tunics. Her eyes were just as green as he remembered.

  
"General Hellfire." Her voice was throaty and low, and rumbled in her chest. "My elemental."

  
He couldn't speak. The woman he had thought of when he fought, the manifestation of monsterkind in his head, the basis he used for so many relationships, standing here before him.

  
She stretched up a paw to rest it against his face. She was short, shorter than Wind had been. The past tense felt like a razor, but he forced it down. After pause, she ran her paw down to the center of his chest. He could feel a tug on his core, drawn to its original source of being.

  
"I could banish you now, if you'd like."

  
"W-what?"

  
"You're an elemental. You were created solely for war. An elemental living beyond one - it is unprecedented. I do not know how long you will live beyond this. Will you simply fade? Will your core give out without warning? Will you die when I do? Will you live as long as the king? I do not know. Normally it would not even be a question, but forcefully banishing you now... It feels wrong. I will allow you to decide."

  
Hazily, he remembered Cyprus and Wind mentioning banishment at the very beginning of the war. At the time, he thought nothing of it. It was a part of being an elemental. But now, he wasn't sure. Civilians were looking to him. How could he abandon them now? He was a general, not a foot soldier. How would Helvetica feel if he left? Gerson? Darwyn? Gaster, even?

  
"I can't leave. Not yet."

  
"But what will you do once we are settled? Once the panic has died? Once King Asgore shows us what to do? There is no more war to fight, Flame. There are no more battles, no more humans."

  
"I... I don't know what I will do." He tried to continue, tried to find some kind of reasoning for staying. In all honesty, he was scared. He didn't want to know what life without war was like, because what else was he useful for? He was made to fight, to protect, to kill. She was right. He wasn't needed anymore. How could he forget? He was an elemental, created only for war. The blood and dust on his hands would never fade. How could he rebuild a life on such decay?

  
"You..." He swallowed, his fire giving off a few sparks. One singed the mage's fur, but she didn't flinch. "You may be right. I-"

  
"Hellfire." It was Helvetica, coming up behind him. "We don't have time to dawdle. There are a lot of people to calm down here, and I need you to help me do it."

  
Shakily, he nodded. His mage caught his forearm as he left. "If you change your mind, come find me." Hellfire didn't respond, following Helvetica into the crowd.

  
It wasn't long until Asgore caught everyone's attention by climbing onto a low, flat rock, Toriel at his side. Everyone hushed each other once held his hands above the crowd, though a low whisper of hiccuping tears still echoed.

  
"Thank you, everyone." His deep voice carried easily through the cavern. "I... I am going to be honest with you; I am not sure what to say. This is one of the lowest times for monsterkind. We have lost so, so much. There will be a period of mourning for everyone that is no longer with us." He bowed his head and breathed deeply for a few moments. "But we must also make a life here, for as long as we need to. Our best scientists will work nonstop to study this barrier and determine just how we may destroy it, and reenter a world that is rightfully ours. We deserve the surface as much as the humans, may we never forget that. Until then, this will be our home. Those who are willing and able to aid in building temporary structures, or join scouting parties to find food or water sources, please come forward. Thank you-"

  
His speech was interrupted by a small child tugging on his cloak. They pulled hard, sniffling. Asgore knelt on one knee to talk quietly with them, but even from Hellfire's place in the front of the crowd, they spoke too softly to be overheard. After a brief pause, he picked up the child and spoke gravely to the crowed.

  
"But first, we must find this child's mother."

  
\---

  
That was not the only time someone could not find one of their loved ones. For hours, monsters shouted names, or called out in languages specific to their kind. Sometimes, they found who they were looking for. Usually, they did not.

  
Small structures popped up around the cave, cobbled together from old stone and dirt. Hellfire tried not to think about how useful Rock would be here. Those with fire magic collected branches that blew through the barrier for torches, though the weak light from those couldn't hope to breach the gloom that hung like fog at the the roof of the cavern. Shadows crouched in every corner, so deep and dark that Hellfire couldn't help but think of the number of humans that could be hiding there. This dark, damp prison was nothing like the open plains or sparse forests he'd spent his entire life in.

  
For a while, none of the camps moved far from the weak light of the barrier. Some braver souls went further into the cave, but none left sight of it.

  
The twilight that shone through was unchanging.

  
He could see that Helvetica was struggling, more so than other monsters. She still blamed herself for their imprisonment, and being trapped in such an enclosed space did her no favors. Sometimes, he could see her looking warily at the darkness above, shoulders rising and breath hitching. He was never sure what to do. Should he comfort her? She would feel weaker then, and lash out, or cap her emotions even more tightly. Should he pretend he didn't see? Then she would have no solace, nothing to make her feel better. All he could do was stay at her side, place his hand on her back, and hope that that was enough.

  
One day, it became very clear that her fears were not unfounded. Small tremors had been rocking through the earth for quite a while, but most hadn't thought anything of it. They were inside the earth now, it made sense that they'd feel its movements a little more closely. Gaster, however, was unsatisfied, studying the quakes as best he could with so few of his tools still with him. It wasn't long before he rocketed through, just as the biggest tremor yet shook the ground and caused dirt to rain from above.

  
"Move away from the barrier! Quickly, move! Get away from it!" Gaster shouted, pushing people away as quickly as he could. It wasn't a moment too soon. Mere breaths after the last child had retreated further into the cave, a huge rumbling could be heard outside the barrier. It echoed deafeningly throughout tunnel, and more than one person clapped their hands over their ears.

  
It was strange, watching a rockslide from the other side. Earth piled up, massive boulders and the smallest pebble, falling through the barrier and slowly burying it. It was a horrifying and awesome display of the sheer power of earth, as stone crushed the makeshift shelters closest to the barrier. The weak light that had shone through slowly dimmed, until with one final thud, it was cut off, not by humans or magic, but by the earth itself.

  
Hellfire had never felt quite so trapped. Entombed.

  
As the dust settled, monsters screamed, cried, shouted. Before, they had at least had some sunlight. They had a place where the occasional scrap of the outside world could drift through. Now, there was nothing but hard, cold stone.

  
"Oh, gods," Helvetica whispered at his side. Her breath was coming in harsh pants, and she was shaking hard enough he could hear her bones knock against each other. It was only a breath before Gaster came pushing through the crowd, one hand gently on her shoulder to guide her from the crowd.

  
Torches increased in frequency, especially after one of the scouting parties discovered a source of wood through a narrow tunnel in the back of the cave. They had described it opening up hugely, which was good should they need to move past Home. Asgore had decided not to begin moving that far into the caves, as there were so few of them that he didn't want to spread out too far.

  
There were only a few hundred monsters left. There had been hundreds upon hundreds of thousands before the war. Something that Hellfire hadn't known about was the existence of monster settlements far from Mount Ebott. No correspondence had arrived from them for years, and most messengers sent there never returned. The ones that did described oceans of dust, and humans so powerful they could kill monsters in a single hit. One even described watching a child wipe out an entire village with nothing but a pair of thick leather gloves.

  
Despite the horrific nature of such time, monsters managed to keep hope. Darwyn had started cooking again with whatever he could find, joking all the while that he was lucky he had time to grab his spices before leaving. He handed out bowls of hearty stew to anyone that needed it. Some scouts discovered a thick vein of gold that Asgore chose to repurpose into a monetary system - no one had brought much of anything with them when they went underground, coins included. It was distributed in ways Hellfire didn't pay much attention to. All he knew is he was handed a sizable satchel that Helvetica said was "for his service."

  
He was not finished serving, however. He stayed at Helvetica's side most of the time, and his light was more important than ever with the barrier covered. Only a few small holes allowed thin shafts of weak light to shine through. Monsters also had a tendency to follow him around, simply looking for a heat source to fight the damp chill permeating the air.

  
For all their weaknesses, monsters were a resilient bunch. They created a home under this mountain, slowly moving from ragged tents and unstable shelters to permanent buildings and roads. Houses were built from the very stone that caged them, both protecting and imprisoning them. Hellfire was offered a large home fit for a general of his status, but he declined. Instead, he accepted a small shelter near Helvetica's rather sizable home, outfitted with a small desk and chair, a cot, and dresser. There was a stand at the foot of his bed to put his armor while he slept, and a small decorative rug by his dresser that he bought for lack of anything better to spend his money on. The walls were bare, and the floor was hard stone. Darwyn called it spartan, and insisted they meet at his own cozy home rather than at Hellfire's.

  
It was at one of these meetings that Gerson pulled Hellfire aside, looking haunted.

  
"Look, I, uh... Just, this is for you. Meant to give it to you earlier, but, well, we were a little busy."

  
He handed a scrap of paper to Hellfire. The old, weathered parchment was rough between his fingers, and he took great care to not burn it. The handwriting was a thin, thoughtlessly neat script that almost looked like calligraphy.

  
_Hellfire,_ the letter began.

_Is it bad I still go to write Flame, even after this many years? You've been Hellfire longer, but my hand still goes to Flame first._

  
_I hope you're doing well in the north. Captain Hellfire, serving under the great General Helvetica, eh? I'm sure you're just as strong a force up there as you were here, especially with that sword of yours._

  
_Gerson says hello, by the way. Didn't know the two of you were friends. He says his dad gives his regards too, and something about keeping a thought for names. I'm sure that'll mean something to you._

  
_This might be where someone would put advice, or a heartfelt closing, but just, don't get killed, alright? Or else I'll plaster your core back together, get a mage to resummon you, and kill you again._

_See you soon, Flame_  
_Cyprus_

  
The name at the end caught like a fishing hook, digging in and refusing to release. His shoulders hitched once, twice, and he bowed his head. There wasn't anything particularly emotional in the note, nothing revealing or personal, but it felt like a last goodbye. It wasn't closure, not even close, but it was something.

  
As Hellfire read the letter once more, drinking it in and inscribing each word in his memory, Gerson spoke quietly. "I was just about to make a message run up north before the last attack came. Then it happened, and by the time I came to myself enough to give out the letters I had, you had already left. M'sorry I couldn't give it to you earlier."

  
Hellfire held the letter to his chest. "Thank you, Gerson." That was all he could say. That was all there was to be said.

  
He spent most of his time off relaxing with Darwyn and Gerson, cooking and drinking tea. Well, in his case, watching the other two drink tea. Though it would be dissolved into magic like any other food, the feeling of wetness before it did was too uncomfortable to make the flavor worth it.

  
Sometimes, with the warm, smoky air of the cottage and the low rumble of his two friends' voices, he fell asleep in his seat. He felt bad and a little embarrassed any time he did, because he was taking up space and interrupting their time together and generally being useless, but they always laughed and assured him it was fine. Besides, he never got much sleep alone anyway. When he wasn't tossing and turning for hours, he was reliving some battle or another. After waking up from those, he always had to get up and make sure he didn't set his cot alight again. Very bothersome to have to worry about, as well as a waste of their precious few materials.

  
He spent most of his free time with the pair. It was odd, then, when Gaster pulled him aside one day as he was trading shifts with another guard.

  
"Look," Gaster started, looking unsure of himself. "You're one of my wife's closest friends. It is... strange, that I barely know you. Would you like to join me for tea today?"

  
Bemused, Hellfire accepted. Together, they walked in mildly uncomfortable silence to the Gaster household.

  
Once inside, Gaster invited Hellfire to sit while he busied himself making tea. The home was fairly spacious, with sturdy wooden furniture and thick rugs. He could hear children playing in a nearby room.

  
"So, Hellfire," Gaster began, settling at the table with a tray. "Tell me about yourself."

  
_Why is it always tea?_ thought Hellfire as he lifted his cup and pretended to take a sip. He wasn't eager for the somewhat sick sensation of liquid boiling to nothing in his throat.

  
"Hellfire?"

  
He realized he hadn't been listening. "Yes?"

  
"Tell me about yourself. What makes you tick?"

  
"I am an elemental," he began rattling automatically. "I have served in our King's army for fifteen years, and was promoted to general five years ago. I-"

  
"No, no. I want to know about you. What is it like being an elemental? What are things you like to do? Who are _you_?"

  
Now Hellfire was confused. Wasn't he his service? That was certainly the most important part of his life. There were other things, perhaps, but they were mostly trivial, really only serving to fill time between when he would be important again.

  
"Um. I... I do not know where to begin."

  
"Start with being an elemental, perhaps? What is it like?"

  
"Well, I am made of fire. Controlled fire, of course, so I only burn as hot as I want to. In moments of loss of control, I sometimes burn hotter than I realize. I..." He trailed off, noticing something behind Gaster. It was one of his extraneous hands, scrawling notes.

  
Gaster glanced back at it. "Oh, cripes." With a wave, the hand dissolved into nothing. "Incredibly sorry, it's habit at this point to take notes of things I don't quite understand. Please, continue."

  
So Hellfire did, rambling on about himself and his core and things he'd noticed over his short life. At some point the hand had shown up again to continue taking notes, but he ignored it. It even grew so bold as to grab his chin to turn his head from side to side, or tap his chest level with his core, or hold his arm to study his joints. The whole process was mildly uncomfortable, but Gaster didn't seem to think anything of it, so Hellfire followed his lead.

  
Eventually, he brought up something that had been bothering him ever since he had spoken with his mage right after the barrier had closed.

  
"Gaster, I know you said you don't know much about elementals, but... Do you have any idea how long I will live?"

  
Gaster cocked his head, brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, General, but there is really no way to know. You are a unique case, one I am fascinated to see continue. I'm sure no one will have explained this to you, but monsters can have vastly different lifespans." He stood and began to pace as he lectured, hands waving about as he spoke. "Now, most monsters have lifespans reaching between one hundred and one hundred fifty, but this is not the case for all.

  
Boss monsters, such as our king and queen, will live until they have a child and their life force can be given to their offspring. It's an intriguing process, one I hope to study more once our kingdom has an heir. Skeletal monsters such as myself, Helvetica, and our sons can live as long as two thousand years or even longer, though we are not immune to falling down from hopelessness or other factors. I myself am in my three hundred eighties, and Helvetica is around four hundred. Once you get as old as we are, counting gets a little pointless. Sans is about twenty five, and Papyrus is nearly ten. Because of our long lifespan, maturation is dramatically slowed."

  
Hellfire was a little lost, but continued nodding along anyway. Gaster didn't even seem to notice him, continuing to enthusiastically ramble without need for encouragement.

  
"Even your turtle friends will live quite a while. Darwyn, yes, and Gerson? The younger one saved Helvetica's life in the north, charming boy. But I'm getting off topic. Those two will live to be about six hundred, give or take about fifty years. And the most amazing thing is," Gaster cried, whirling to face Hellfire with arms spread and a wide grin, "I have no idea how long you'll live! You could die in the next ten years, or you could outlive monsterkind. I don't know! Isn't it fascinating? Isn't it absolutely brilliant? I cannot wait to find out!"

  
Well, that had been supremely unhelpful. Hellfire didn't know how to respond. All he knew is that no one knew what he was getting into, and that Gaster was uncomfortably thrilled to see when he would die.

  
"Gaster?" came a familiar voice behind Hellfire. "Are you frightening him off with your rambling?" Helvetica rounded his chair with crossed arms and a fond smile. "He tends to get lost in his theories," she said to him, nodding at Gaster. "I swear, if I wasn't here to pull his head out of his experiments, who knows what mad science he'd get up to."

  
"To be fair, love," Gaster replied, gently leaning over to nudge her with his shoulder. "I pull you out of work just as much as you do me. You spend every spare moment training."

  
Helvetica leaned against him the barest amount. Her prosthetic was probably bothering her. "Yes, well, it's a good thing we're here then. Without you, I'd..." She trailed off, looking at Hellfire. She seemed to have forgotten he was there. "Anyway," she continued, clearing her throat. "How are you, General?"

  
"Well enough, thank you. Helvetica, there's been something I've meaning to ask you. Have you seen General Callton around lately? It's been awhile since I've had the chance to speak with him, and I was hoping to apologize for not trying to work better with him when we served together."

  
As Hellfire spoke, Helvetica's brow drew closer and closer together.

  
"Hellfire," she said cautiously, drawing a chair to sit across from him. "Callton is dead. He fell a year after the barrier went up."

  
He could have sworn his flame stilled. "What?"

  
She gently grabbed his hand. Gaster hovered behind her, looking helpless. "How long do you think we have been underground?"

  
"About a year, yes?" Hellfire's breath was coming a little faster.

  
"Seven, Hellfire," she murmured. "We've been underground for seven years."

  
Seven. Seven years. He realized he had genuinely had no idea how long they'd been there, it hadn't seemed to matter. Every day blurred into the same over and over, nothing changing and nothing meaning anything.

  
He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how long he sat there, trying to process it. Helvetica had left, Gaster was pottering around the kitchen helplessly, the noise of the children quieted. Perhaps they were asleep. He found it hard to care.

  
The years didn't feel more real after that revelation. They slipped through his fingers in a meaningless stream of static, like he was viewing everything through a thick fog. Years and years went on, children grew and aged and died and he felt none of it. The only thing that was real to him, viscerally so, was his memories of the past. Battles, friends, blood, dust. They could happen at any time, nearly randomly. He could be discussing a battle with another soldier and be fine, then later catch a glimpse of his armor and panic. One night, he was simply polishing his sword, when he was back.

  
It was like some kind of awful double vision: he knew he was in his room, but at the same time he was on the battlefield, armor and regret weighing down his shoulders. He could hear the death cries of monsters and humans alike filling the air, and underneath that, the clatter of his blade falling to the ground. He stumbled forward, to the side of the room.

  
He braced his hands against the wall. The smell of blood and smoke was overwhelming and he felt as if it might bury him.

  
Two humans chose that moment to charge into his room.

  
"Stay back!" he roared, sweeping his hand, but his mind was too scattered to summon more than a few wisps of flames.

  
They stayed by the door. One called, "Please, Mister Hellfire, let us help! We heard you shouting and-"

  
Oh gods, they knew his name. He felt as if that name was all he ever heard, calls of "Hellfire, Hellfire, _Hellfire!_ " dominating his head. Each letter was dripping with corpses and rot and dust and he was drowning in it.

  
He dropped his aggressive stance and slid to the floor. One of the creatures crept forward, wide eyed, and he took sick pride in frightening it.

  
It reached him and leaned forward, arm outstretched. Probably had a weapon up its sleeve, or else behind its back. Before it could touch him, he reached up and snatched its wrist. He might have been burning it, but he didn't care.

  
"Right in the core, human," he hissed, tapping the center of his chest. If they were going to kill him, may as well do it right.

  
It wrenched away from him. "I- I'm not a human, Mister! It's me, Rosabelle! Please, wake up!"

  
Not a human? He crawled backwards wildly until he hit the wall, head whipping between the two. What were they, if not human? Could he not trust his own mind? The one by the door was trembling, but the other one called out to him.

  
"Please, look! I'm a bunny! You- you can feel my fur, if you like." She held out an arm. He reached back with one shaking hand.

  
Under his harsh flame, he felt only soft fur, not the smooth skin of humans. Looking higher, he could see long, floppy ears and a purple face. How had he missed that? How had he _ever_ mistaken this girl with a human?

  
He leaned back against the wall, head dropping between his knees. His shoulders shook. How could he have let two children see him like this?

  
The one by the door came close, and together, the sat with him and pressed against his sides. Soft. Stable. They sat there as he trembled, and finally, stilled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to be so much longer, but everyone just kept talking, and once it got near 6k words I decided to split it up. You all have waited long enough. I'm not sure if there will be one or two chapters left. I'm planning for one but with the sheer number of stuff I have planned I have a feeling it'll be two or even more, depending. Thank you all for sticking with me!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A raging wildfire can settle to a warm campfire. Something dangerous can become something safe. All it needs is time.

Years passed. Decades, even. He didn't know, and had no point of reference. The two rabbit girls that had been with him so long ago - had it been long ago? - grew, and had children, and those children grew. Grand buildings blossomed forth to replace flowers that refused to grow on hard stone. Scattered rays of sunlight shone weakly through and and attempted to brighten the gloom of their unforgiving rock prison, a prison they had turned into a home. Home, Asgore had called it. It didn't feel like any kind of home to Hellfire.

 

Monsterkind was deeply wounded. Ebott had not been the only settlement for monsters, though it had been far and away the largest. No one had come from those distant villages, and no messages were received before their entrapment. Any likelihood of survival was slim. Despite their loss, monsters being contained meant the population multiplied. They doubled, then doubled again, until Home became crowded. Children were born, spouses grew old together, and their people rallied around new life and hope for a future.

 

Hellfire - gods, how he hated that name - couldn't remember what the breeze smelled like.

 

Logically, when population grew, space declined, until people were clamoring for a chance to breathe. Scouts were sent out in droves to look for other habitable caverns. Upon their return, they described dense forests and soggy marshes. Some that went a little further spoke of thick, oppressive heat and magma as far as the eye could see.

 

After a time, it was decided that monsterkind would move deeper into the caves. There was little point in lingering by a barrier that they couldn't even reach. Perhaps if they made it to the other side of the mountain, they could find another opening, and studies on how to break the barrier would resume.

 

It took Hellfire mere moments to pack his things: a couple changes of clothes, and a single worn blanket. After one last check his armor straps, he left, one hand on the strap of his pack and one resting on the pommel of his sword.

 

Only a few houses down, Helvetica was herding her family out the door. Gaster was double checking his pack, making sure he brought everything. The younger of the two, Papyrus, was taking a few wobbly steps, Sans following carefully behind. Helvetica took the rear, armor polished until it shone.

 

"Ah, Hellfire," Helvetica said when she caught sight of him. "Will you be joining me as part of the Royal Guard? Leading these people to a new future?"

 

There was a sardonic thorne under her words. Royal Guard, what a joke. There were so few left, the title of general was ultimately meaningless. There weren't even enough soldiers left to form a respectable guard under a captain. Their ranks would retire with them.

 

Hellfire nodded anyway. Gaster bustled back inside to grab something he'd forgotten. Papyrus almost tripped, saved from the hard cobblestone by Sans's steady hands.

 

After kissing her husband and patting her children, Helvetica walked with Hellfire towards the end of the cavern.

 

“I don’t think I’ll miss this cave,” Helvetica commented as they walked. “Apparently the further caverns have ecosystems and flora. Maybe, it’ll feel less like we’re underground.” She gave him a wry grin, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye socket.

 

Hellfire shrugged, a little helplessly. He had no idea what to expect. Neither did she. No one here could even begin to think of what they would find in the deep caves they called home.

 

“So, anything interesting happen in the last month?” she said.

 

Had it really been a month since they last discussed anything besides work? He shook his head. Nothing happened to him. Why would it? He patrolled - a useless task, serving only to fill time and comfort the citizens. He silently drank tea with Gerson and Darwyn. He went home. This cycle repeated itself day after day, week after week. Little deviation, little change. He felt like he was waiting for something, but wasn’t sure what.

 

Well, that was a lie. He knew what he was looking for. A fight. The rush, the blood, the dust. It was terrible, but it was a terror he knew. This was the terror of apathy, of a dull nothingness until he died. It frightened him more than any blade could.

 

Helvetica looked at him, concerned. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. They walked together in silence.

 

Hellfire realized as they walked that he barely recognized most of the monsters that were collecting. Many of the ones he did were stooped and aged. The world - and how small that world had become - was passing him by. He knew so few of the people around him. These were the people he had been protecting, people he knew almost nothing about. A strange urge rose in his chest; to meet everyone here. To learn their names, their stories, their lives. To maybe, one day, become one of them. Right now, he was a ghost. A light that walked the streets, sword at his side, speaking to no one. Almost never seen when not on patrol. He wanted to become one of these people - not a soldier, not a guard. Simply, a monster.

 

As soon as the strange feeling struck, it passed, washing the world back into dull greys. It didn’t matter who they were. They’d be dead soon enough. Most monsters had such short lives. The only ones who had lasted longer than he were the king and queen, Helvetica and her family, and Gerson and Darwyn. They were the only constants. The rest of these people, the world around him, they would change and move on. This mass exodus only proved that.

 

Not every monster was leaving, however. More timid races chose to stay - Froggits, a clan of Moldsmals, Whimsuns, and a few others. Hellfire personally doubted the sentience of Moldsmals, and whether the clan that was leaving even knew what was happening, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Moldbyggs seemed to be taking care of them, so hopefully they wouldn’t fall behind.

 

The rest of the crowd was charged with nervous energy. People balled together, afraid to move forward, but desperate to not be left behind. Asgore stood at the head of the crowd, with Toriel at his side. She was talking gently to him, perhaps encouraging him. His shoulders were tightly drawn. The crowd echoed him, tense whispers bouncing back and forth, rippling throughout the cave’s still air like water.

 

The people did not hush as Asgore turned to them and raised his hands, but their words softened, waiting.

 

“Monsters. Friends,” the king began. “I understand that you are afraid. I wish I could tell you what lies ahead - our scouts have done excellent work, but there may still be surprises. Trust me, I’m just as nervous as you all!”

 

Mildly awkward laughter coursed through the cave. Hellfire shifted where he stood at the front of the crowd. It wasn’t good that Asgore was nervous, right? He should be projecting a role of strong leadership, whether or not he felt it. He was their king, not one of the other monsters. He should have a strong face.

 

“But we are together. We will forge ahead as one. These caverns are our home, for better or worse. We deserve to live here, to explore and know every corner. We will do this together. As we continue, there will be different places that may feel comfortable for you, like a good home. You are free to settle there if you would like. Toriel and I will be going as far as possible in hopes of finding another opening to the barrier. There, we will create a new capital. Those that wish may come with us, and live in our new home.”

 

He started mumbling to himself. “Hmm… New Home. That’s not bad.” Toriel nudged him with a pointed look. “Right! Yes, so, um… Is everyone ready?”

 

Slowly, but with growing enthusiasm, the crowd began to cheer. They were ready to move on, to spread out and grow. They were choosing this newness, rather than having the newness of Home forced upon them. The novel idea of choice, of spreading where they wished to, was a nice idea. It was only that to Hellfire, however: an idea. It wasn’t quite true. They had no choice, did they? They weren’t going where they wished. They were simply taking the only option available to them. It wasn’t revolutionary, it was only survival.

 

The crowd moved, shuffling along at an aggravatingly slow rate. If his soldiers had ever gone this slow he would have had them running sprints until they collapsed.

 

Civilians. Ugh.

 

As they traveled, the air started to change. It grew sharp in a way Hellfire had no name for. He drew his arms close to his body and shivered.

 

“Cold, isn’t it?” Helvetica said. When he only look confused, she continued. “I forget how new to things you can be, sorry. It was fairly warm on Mount Ebott, so you wouldn’t have much experience with this. Cold is… uh… the opposite of warm? Blast, I wish Dings were nearby. He’d be able to explain this better.”

 

“It hurts.”

 

“I’m not surprised. You’re made of fire, after all. If we get through here, apparently there’s somewhere very warm up ahead. You should be more comfortable there.”

 

As they talked, a forest began to appear around them. The ground was covered in strange whiteness that crunched under his boots, and more fell in flakes from above.

 

“That’s strange,” Helvetica said. “How can it be snowing? We’re underground.”

 

Asgore seemed to have the same question. He stared upward, then looked back into the crowd with a furrowed brow. Gaster seemed to sense the confusion, pushing through to the front just as soon as Asgore turned back to search for him.

 

“Fascinating!” he exclaimed, peering towards the gloomy cavern ceiling. “This cave is absolutely massive, big enough to create it’s own internal water cycle! What an incredible sight. I wonder how many other cave systems exhibit the same phenomena?”

 

Asgore nodded along, eyebrows still drawn. He floundered for a moment, unsure what to say. Toriel came to his rescue.

 

“The trees? How can they grow here with no sunlight?”

 

Gaster brought a hand to his chin, radiating an air of wisdom. Helvetica looked exasperated. “Well, monsters have been living and performing magic on this mountain for eons. Those of us similar to plant life have shown that they have no need for sunlight, as all of their energy comes from magic. Perhaps these trees have been growing here with the same sort of nourishment. I would like to, of course, collect samples of wood and leaves and such to affirm my suspicions.” Wasting no time, he summoned a few hands that set to work chipping samples of bark and fleshy inner wood to be placed in various mismatched phials. The crowd milled about, talking in low tones or interestedly observing the space around them. A few children threw packed handfuls of snow at each other with cheerful laughs. Another tugged on their mother’s skirt, complaining about snow seeping into their shoes.

 

Hellfire came up behind Gaster, watching him work without really paying attention.

 

“Did you have a question?” Gaster asked, still focusing on the trees.

 

“Yes. Helvetica mentioned that this sharpness in the air is called cold. What is that?”

 

Gaster finally turned towards Hellfire, the chance to explain something lighting his face with a hint of smugness. “Ah, of course! You never would have experienced it, yes? Well, to first understand cold, you must understand temperature! Temperature, after all, is the very basis by which we understand heat, cold, and everything in between.” Hellfire nodded, doing his best to follow. “Now, really, there’s no such thing as cold! Temperature is obviously our measure of heat, so things are simply more or less hot.” Hellfire continued to nod, less enthusiastically. “I’m not surprised you feel cold more intensely than most. Generally, ‘fleshy’ monsters - a word I use loosely as they don’t technically have flesh - feel cold to the same degree, pardon the pun, as humans. Seventy degrees is comfortable, plus or minus, say, fifteen is uncomfortable. Getting below zero or over one hundred is dangerous.” Hellfire stared into the snow. What was it made of? What did it feel like? “Skeletons and other monsters with less substance generally don’t feel temperatures as strongly. Slime monsters, on the other hand, are particularly sensitive to changes in temperature, as they can easily freeze or melt. You, my friend, are made of fire!”

 

Hellfire started, finally being addressed. “What?”

 

“I’m assuming this cold - must be around, hm, twenty degrees? twenty five? - is painful for you, yes?”

 

“...Yes.”

 

“I would be willing to bet you can withstand much hotter temperatures than most, and clearly you’re more susceptible to cold. Heat is energy, after all, and balance of energy is always the most natural state of the world. The air will attempt to draw out your heat to balance the energy between yourself and the air around you.”

 

Hellfire turned to stare at the cave around him. Shadows hung above, coiled in corners. The snow was bright white, however, and brightly reflected his light, chasing the darkness a little farther away. The cold, painful as it was, was also clean and clear. His breath felt sharp in his throat. It was beautiful here, in its own way.

 

Gaster, having gotten no response, had turned to finish up with the trees. Many in the crowd had set down their things, choosing this cold expanse as their home. The rest began to shuffle forward again, most of them eager to move on. Hellfire didn’t move.

 

Helvetica came up next to him, Papyrus slung on her back. “Hellfire? We’re moving on.”

 

“I want to stay here.”

 

She moved back in surprise, brows raised. “Are you sure? You said it was painful here, and the Guard is going to the capital, and-”

 

“Helvetica. Please, I want to stay.” He halted, unsure of his next words. “I… I don’t want to be a part of the guard anymore. Or, I do, but not-- Well, I just-- I don’t know.”

 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, she nodded understandingly. “You want to rest.” Hellfire could only close his eyes. A born soldier, needing a break? “You can stay here. I’ll send word should I have need of you. If you ever change your mind, come west. I’ll be in the capital.”

 

Hellfire stayed rooted to the spot as his last friends in the world left him behind.

 

\---

 

It seemed only a heartbeat before small, temporary buildings were erected. A short, reddish bunny had guided him to one, gently grabbing his forearm with one paw.

 

“Here’s your house, Mister, sorry, General Hellfire, um, sir,” they said with a voice soft as flour. It was fairly large in comparison to most, with heavy wood walls and floors. Somehow, the cold seemed to remain outside, leaving the room chilly but not painfully so. There was a plain bed in the corner with a dresser at the foot, and a roughly hewn table and chair near the empty fireplace on the other wall. The corner closest to the door seemed to contain an armor stand, but one made by someone who had no idea what they were doing. In all, it had a very cozy, rustic feel.

 

“Sorry it’s small, uh, Mister General Hellfire. We-”

 

“This is all for me?” It was twice the width of his quarters back in Home, and another half as long. They had built all this for him from the ground up, furniture and all. What had he done to deserve this?

 

“Oh! Um, yeah. Everyone needs to have a place to stay, and you just, uh, did so much for everyone during the war? Uh, with all the stories about you and all. Plus, you’re made of fire, so you probably should be out in the cold.”

 

Hellfire stepped further into the room, walking to the bed. He sat slowly, half believing none of this was real. There was a blanket on the bed. It was soft against his fingers. He ran one hand across it, trying to feel every fiber. The air in the room almost felt heavy, and warmed as he drank in the space. It was a quick matter to cross the room - his home - and light the fireplace. The light from it filled the room, making it feel that much bigger. The rabbit, drawn to the heat, walked in a few steps.

 

Hellfire turned to them, leaning forward in what was almost a short bow. “Thank you for this.”

 

“Oh. Um.” Their whiskers twitched. “Yeah.” There was a pause. “I’ll, um, leave you to unpack I guess?”

 

For some reason, he was sad to see them go. “Feel free to visit whenever you like.”

 

They looked awkward. “Uh, okay. Yeah. So, I’m supposed to tell you that my sister is setting up a store near here? She’s gonna make food and stuff, and sell stuff she can find. So, uh, come visit if you want.”

 

“Yes, I will.” Of course he would. It sounded nice.

 

“So. Um. Bye.”

 

“Goodbye.”

 

\---

 

Weeks later, he was staring into the warm fireplace, when he felt a pang in his chest. Somehow, he intrinsically knew what it meant.

 

His mage was dead.

 

\---

 

It was easy to just stay at home. He polished his armor, and kept the place clean. He even bought a rug from the little general store. Apparently, after a few days they’d found a place where human rubbish had tumbled down, and most of it could be fixed up and resold.

 

When he was feeling more social, he went to a nearby communal space. There were mostly just tables and chairs, and toys in the corner for children. People generally brought food to share as well. It was just a nice, warm place for people to gather and socialize. He would sit in the corner and let conversation wash over him. Occasionally, a child would tug on his pant leg and ask for “the lights!” He would send out little balls of harmless flame for the children to chase and try and grab.

 

Less often, he would go visit Gerson and Darwyn. They had made a home in the marshes of Waterfall, a sticky, miserable place. Close to his home, Snowdin, it was chilly and damp, and farther along it was humid and damp. He hated it, but he enjoyed seeing his friends. He had to remind himself of that as he unstuck his heavy boots from the mud for what felt like the hundredth time.

 

“Blast,” Hellfire muttered, nearly wrenching his ankle as he yanked one more time. With a thick pop, the leather pulled free. Adjusting his cloak, he headed forward again, taking care to stay on the slightly more stable path. He loathed this trek, but cooking with Darwyn and talking with Gerson made it worth it.

 

It was hard to remember that when he felt a drop of frigid water roll right down his neck.

 

Thankfully, it wasn’t long until he could see their home. They had a shop at the front where Darwyn sold food and trinkets he came across, and their home was behind it. Walking through the door sent a gentle chime ringing out, causing Darwyn to look up from a doze.

 

“Fiery! How’s it been!” he crowed. Lifting himself out of his chair with a nearly audible creak, he shuffled over to Hellfire and yanked him down into a hug. His arms had thinned quite a bit, but he still held Hellfire with a gentle kind of strength.

 

“Hello, Darywn,” Hellfire said. There was something new on the wall - a painting of the Delta Rune. When Hellfire asked about it, Darwyn smiled excitedly.

 

“The mages’ve uncovered a meaning from the Rune! These triangles, see, here,” he said, pointing at them on the painting, “are us. Monsters, I mean, in the underground. This dot here, see, with the wings, now that’s the Angel!”

 

“The Angel?”

 

“Yes, yes! It’ll, hm, what’d they say? ‘The Angel, or, uh, the one who has seen the surface, will descend from above, and the underground’ll go empty!”

 

“Go empty? As in, we’ll be free?”

 

“Yes! The Angel will free us. We just have to wait.”

 

“What Dad means to say,” came Gerson’s voice from behind Hellfire, “is that a lot of people these days are putting stock in a pretty picture. Sure, it looks neat, but no need to bank everything we have on it.” He came the rest of the way into the room, dressed in armor and carrying his helmet.

 

“Now, boy, where is your hope? What’s the harm in believing?”

 

“My hope is with Gaster. We have to be ready for humans to fall, he says, because we need them to open the barrier.” He said the words like they had been recited many times before; it was clear this was a tired argument.

 

“Gaster?” Hellfire asked.

 

“Yeah, he’s done studies on the other end of the barrier. Said that humans made it, so we probably gotta use humans to break it. Doesn’t mean he won’t try other stuff though.”

 

“Anyway,” Darwyn responded, a clever glint in his eye. “Aren’t all those humans from the surface?”

 

Gerson rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then came to give Hellfire a quick hug. “What are you doing still standing in the doorway? Come on in, get settled. Not too settled, though. Dad’ll have you on your feet cooking soon enough!” he finished with a laugh. Together, the three went back into their home.

 

It was cozy and small, a network of tiny natural caves. They’d made a living room and kitchen in the main chamber, with a large fire in the middle to keep away the damp chill that permeated most of Waterfall. A low-bellied cooking pot sat in the middle. It was rusted, worn, and blacked, but clearly well used.

 

“Fiery,” Darwyn said, settling into a cushioned chair. The side table next to it had a frame with a sketch of him and his late husband, with a baby Gerson between them. It was rough and a little wonky, probably done by a friend rather than a professional. “Get a base for some stew started. I could use somethin’ warm for these bones.” His breath rattled in his chest as he sighed.

 

Cooking stew was a mindless task at this point, something he could do without thinking. He could simply lose himself in the motion of it. Occasionally, Darwyn would call out this or that he thought should be added, but he was mostly content to watch. Gerson, meanwhile, ducked into his bedroom to take off his armor and catch a quick nap. It wasn’t long before the stew only needed to simmer and thicken before being finished. Hellfire settled himself next to Darwyn to wait.

 

“So, Fiery,” Darwyn said. “Been thinkin’ about names lately?”

 

“No. Or, well, yes, but I haven’t thought of new ones.”

 

“So what have you been thinking about?”

 

“...I don’t like this name anymore.”

 

Darwyn’s face was gentle. “Did you ever?”

 

Now that he thought about it, no. He never did. He hated his name, hated what it stood for, hated what caused it to exist. Every time he he heard it, he could only see the woman that gave it to him. He remembered every detail of her face. Her eyes were round and dark, dark brown, almost black. Her skin was dark brown too, but not as dark as the black char crusted on it. White ash and white bone stood out starkly, perhaps more in his imagination than it had in reality. She would always be with him, always calling his name.

 

Hellfire didn’t have to say a word. Darwyn seemed to know what he was thinking.

 

“So why don’t you pick a new name?”

 

“I… I don’t know.”

 

“Every monster has a name. You should have one too.”

 

“But that’s the problem!” Hellfire nearly shouted, throwing himself violently out of his chair. “ _Monsters_ get names! Am I that? I’m still only known as the old soldier, the elemental! The man who killed hundreds in the war! Am I a monster? Because I only feel like…”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like a weapon. Can a sword be a monster? Can an axe? Can… Can I?” Hellfire sat again. His hands were shaking.

 

“Sure they can’t. They don’t got a brain, they don’t think. They don’t worry about whether or not they’re a monster. You’re alive. You’re one of us. You’re a monster, Fiery.”

 

Hellf- The elemental’s breath was slowing. He sighed. “But what if I’m only ever seen as a soldier? I don’t want that.”

 

“Well,” Darywn said, shifting in his seat. “What would you rather do?”

 

The rich smell of the stew in front of them filled the room. He could hear it bubbling gently, and it made him feel warm and strangely soft in a way he had no name for. “I like to cook.”

 

“Then do that. Make a new name for yourself - literally. Do that. Do what you love. Everything else will follow.”

 

The elemental took a deep breath. “Thank you, Darwyn.”

 

“For what?”

 

“Everything. You were the first one who made me think I could be something more. I probably wouldn’t be here now if not for you.”

 

Darwyn smiled a little, but his eyes were pained. “What I did, anyone should have done. Maybe if more people had, the rest of you would be here too.”

 

That hurt in a rough, abrasive way. He’d never thought of it like that before. Could Storm still be here? Rock, Water, Ice? Wind? Could they have all found things to love like he had? Could they have found new names, names they chose rather than names that were spat upon them out of a mouth boiling with hatred?

They would never know. No one would. They had never had a chance, and that hurt him just as badly as their deaths. They had died, but had they ever really lived?

 

“Best not to think about it,” Darwyn said, staring into the flames. “Nothing to be done now.”

 

\---

 

He was in a forest. The trees were inky black, silhouetted against a deep red sky. _Hellfire_ whispered through the trees, the sound curling up and settling heavily on his shoulders.

 

Rustling echoed through, and a human stepped out from the brush. Nondescript, expressionless, only standing there. It held a dagger.

 

There was a familiar weight in his palm. He didn't even have to look down to see it was his sword. His other arm was bare and rippling with fire, casting ghostly light through the trees.

 

More rustling behind him. He whirled, sword at the ready, to see more humans emerging from between the trees. All expressionless and still.

 

Why weren't they moving? Why weren't they doing _anything?_ He was outnumbered, he didn't know where he was, he was alone. Why weren't they attacking?

 

He wouldn't let them make the first move. He dove forward and slashed his blade through one's throat, splattering the one next to it with sticky red blood. The first’s body fell heavily to the ground.

 

His head whipped from human to human. He had just killed one of their own, and still they only stood.

 

It didn't matter. It didn't matter that they didn't care about their own. That would only make them easier to kill.

 

He moved, all liquid grace and detached calculation. One, two, three, they fell like dolls, unmoving and dispassionate. They didn’t blink, didn’t fight. Their apathy enraged him, for reasons he couldn’t quite describe. He roared through the black trees, sword flashing gold under a bloody red sky.

 

 _Hellfire._ The whisper continued. _Hellfire._

 

Adrenaline coursed through him like acid, and he left a trail of smoldering brush and scorched footsteps. His fire caught and spread like it was alive, devouring dry wood and still flesh alike. Though no mouths moved, he could hear screams echo out, begging, pleading for mercy. He had none to give.

 

Finally, he reached the edge of the forest. Beyond, there was a plain, blood-soaked and dust-strewn. Rotting bodies covered the ground where flies moved in clouds, descending to gorge on decaying flesh.

 

It looked like how soldiers, both human and monster, would describe hell, but he was not frightened of hell. It was his namesake, and he had brought it with him here. He had seen hell, and he embodied it.

 

There was nothing for him here. He turned back to the forest, and stopped cold. These were not the bodies of humans. Green scales, a swirling breeze, smooth bones, brown shells. These were faces he knew.

 

Snapping out of his shock, he dove towards the closest body. Cyprus. They were still, cold. He pulled them into his arms, desperately probing for some spark of magic, the beat of their soul, even the smallest sign that they were still living. There was none.

 

Hadn't he killed all of the humans in the forest? How dare more come, and attack his loved ones rather than him?

 

But, no. Their wounds were not only those from a blade, but from heat as well, heavy, blackened burns crossing their body in swaths.

 

He had done this. He had done this. His fault. He-

 

He woke. In his own home, in his own bed. The draft from the cracked door was cold against his bare chest. He stood and crossed the room, quickly latching it shut. His hands were shaking, he noticed detachedly. It wasn’t new, just irritating. Easily ignorable. He settled back into bed, knowing he would get no more sleep tonight.

 

\---

 

The commons hall began to change over time. Sodden books found were repaired and stored there, for the people to read and borrow. People still gathered there to exchange food and stories, and the atmosphere became a little cozier.

 

The elemental, rather than simply going to be around others, brought his own food one day. Darwyn had told him to make a new name for himself, and he had to start somewhere. He brought the same stew he had cooked with Darywn, and freshly baked bread. It was strange, he was almost nervous as he stepped inside with his packages.

 

“General Hellfire!” called one dog monster, a child settled on her hip. “Have you brought something with you?”

 

He cringed, setting the pot and bread on a nearby table. “I don’t wish to go by that name any longer.”

 

“What would you like to be called?”

 

Hm. He hadn’t really gotten that far.

 

“Well,” she said, not unkindly. “We can just call you General, yeah? I’m sure you know, but I’m Dogrianna.”

 

He didn’t know. Names were difficult, and the people around him changed so quickly.

 

“And this here,” Dogrianna said, bouncing the now-sleeping child, “is Doggets.” The pup shifted and grumbled at his name, but didn’t wake. “And what do you have there?” she asked.

 

“Food,” he said, then cringed. It was obviously food. “Um. Stew, and bread. The stew is a little spicy.”

 

“I didn’t know you cooked,” she said, leaning over to smell the steam rising from the pot. “And well, too.”

 

“I have since I was young. Not as much recently though, but I want to change that.”

 

People had begun wandering over, attracted to the smell of warm food. Bowls were filled and passed around, and conversation slowed as people ate. The room was warm, and the scent of fresh bread and stew filled it. He watched everyone eat, gratified in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was nice to give something back.

 

“How often you gonna be bringin’ this?” asked a snowdrake around their full mouth.

 

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” he said, “but you’re all free to come by and ask for food whenever you like. I’m happy to cook, and it’s nice to do so for others.”

 

The snowdrake pointed their spoon firmly at him. “I will absolutely take you up on that.”

 

It was good to be wanted for his cooking pot rather than his sword.

 

\---

 

He cooked for years, many years, more than he knew. People came to his home and asked what he was cooking that day. Sometimes they stuck around and ate there, other times they got their dinner from him to bring home. Eventually he bought a few more tables and chairs, just so they could have somewhere to sit while they ate. People occasionally attempted to pay him, but he always refused. He cooked because he enjoyed it, and he wasn’t hurting for money.

 

After a time, Gaster had made something called “electricity” powered through the excess magic in the underground. People complained about something called “bills,” but when he asked Helvetica about it, she only said not to worry, because it was “taken care of.”

 

Because he was constantly cooking now, though, he had to spend lots of time searching through the human rubbish to stay updated on cooking supplies and other things. Finding cookbooks was always a boon, but more often than not he had to experiment with the appliances he found in hopes of stumbling across something they could be used for.

 

One day, he came across something he had never seen before. It was boxy, with thin metal bars across the top. It stood on four legs, to about waist height. There was even a manual for use wedged between the bars - it was something called a “grill,” apparently. He hauled it up to bring to Darywn’s; they liked to attempt to use new tools together.

 

“What’d you bring me today?” asked Darwyn when the elemental arrived.

 

“Apparently,” he said, setting down, “it’s called a grill.”

 

“Grill…” He mulled it over. “Not a bad basis for a name, eh?”

 

The elemental sighed. Darwyn tried this every time he brought him something new. “Toasty” after the toaster was the most palatable, but still atrocious.

 

“Grill,” Darwyn muttered, looking over the device. “Grill, grill, grill… Grilly? Grillster?”

 

“No, Darwyn,” he responded good-naturedly, flipping through the manual.

 

Darwyn snapped. “Grillsto.”

 

“No.”

 

“Griller? Grilltz!”

 

“No.”

 

“Grillbo!”

 

That one gave him pause. It was just as ugly as the rest, but maybe…

 

“Grillby,” the elemental said.

 

“Grillby… Grillby! Yeah, I like that! Hey, Grillby! How’s it goin’, Grillby? It’s perfect!” Darwyn attempted to jump to his feet, only to groan and clutch his knees. “Help me up, Grillby. Not as young as I used to be, heh heh.”

 

It was true. Darwyn had been old when they first met, but now he was positively ancient. The elemental - no, Grillby - stood to help Darwyn to his feet. As soon as Darwyn stood, he fell awkwardly forward against Grillby, giving him a quick hug.

 

“Y’know,” Darwyn said as he pulled away. “I’ve been missing my husband a lot lately. Probably gonna get to see him soon though!” He attempted to laugh, but it dissolved into a hacking, wet cough. Grillby worriedly held held his shoulder until the fit passed. After what felt like too long, Darwyn caught his breath again. “Where was I? Oh, right, missing my husband.” He sighed. “Nothin’s gonna make that better. I’ll miss him ‘til the day I fall. But, y’know… It’s been a little easier with you here. You and Gerson have helped me more than you know.” He huffed a laugh. “My boys. Both of you.”

 

Grillby’s breath caught in his throat. He had never loved someone the way Darwyn did his husband, but he did know the pain of loss all too well. To know that he could help in any small way, that he was regarded at the same level as Darwyn’s son, touched him in a profound way.

 

He had no words. All he could do was hug Darwyn one more time.

\---

 

It was strange, how quickly things could change. In a rush of energy and motivation, he and some others around town added a large front room to his house. It was easy to add more tables and chairs, and bar for him to serve at. He did his best to make sure it was still as warm and cozy as his home always had been, but with plenty of space for people to sit and relax. He even managed to find someone in Hotland who made neon signs, and had one commissioned for his… restaurant? Was that where he was going with this? He’d read all kinds of things about different restaurants and pubs and such in the human world - and wasn’t it strange that he thought of it as a different world now? Every time he had, he’d never even considered opening his own, and yet, here he was hanging a sign that read “Open” in the front window.

 

He took a step back. There it was: all brick and wood in warm browns, with the orange GRILLBY’S across the top. He’d put almost every coin he’d saved over the many, many, many years into this. It had to work. It had to.

 

It wasn’t long until he’d gotten his first customer, a white bunny and his two daughters, one purple and one pink.

 

“Hello, Grillby!” called the rabbit, a man named Stuart. “So, a fancy new restaurant, hm? That’ll draw tourists from the capital!” He ran the town’s inn, and his wife the general store, so he was always concerned with who came to town. “C’mon girls, let’s get a seat.” The three sat in a booth against the western wall. Grillby came over to them with a notepad.

 

“Do you have some menus for us?”

 

Grillby paused. He closed his eyes. “I forgot to print menus.”

 

Stuart laughed. “Well, just tell us what you have then!” The girls started to squabble over who’d eaten the last cookie.

 

“What are you hungry for?” Grillby asked. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“Well, Rosie’ll want some grilled cheese. Bell’s a little more picky. Bellie-boo? What do you want for lunch?”

 

The purple bunny sat up, the old argument ignorable in favor of food. “Pancakes!” she declared.

 

“Pancakes aren’t lunch food, boo.”

 

“Yeah!” said Rosie, a little needlessly.

 

Bell folded her arms and slid down her seat, nose scrunching mutinously. “Pancakes,” she insisted.

 

Stuart sighed through his nose. “Can she get some pancakes, Grillby?

 

“Of course.”

 

“I’ll have a burger and fries if you’ve got ‘em. Hot chocolates for the girls and a water for me, I think.”

 

“Certainly. It’ll be out soon.”

 

It was nice to be useful, Grillby mused as he mixed the melted chocolate and milk. He added a dash of vanilla and just a hint of cinnamon. It was also nice that none of them had asked for things he couldn’t make. It wasn’t long before he had finished their orders and brought them back out. Waiting for him in the main dining room were three new customers, all seated and expectant.

 

He was going to be busy. It was a pleasant thought.

 

\---

 

It had been a long while since his last visit with Helvetica, he realized a few months later. His restaurant was running smoothly, but loneliness was starting to creep in. It was a simple matter to post a sign that he’d be gone the next couple days, and hop in the ferry to Hotland. It was unfortunate that it didn’t go all the way to the capital.

 

It was also unfortunate that it had to be a boat. One rock, one leak, and he’d be in the river. It was either this, though, or the trek through Waterfall. The river person, whoever they were, seemed to recognize his concerns and make doubly sure that there was smooth sailing, but it was still a little nerve-wracking. He was grateful, then, to finally step off the boat into the warm air of Hotland.

 

It was a nice place, he supposed, and comfortably warm. Lots of weathered stone and magma. He’d probably be fine if he fell into that, unlike the thick snowbanks that’d hurt like hell. However, it just wasn’t the same. He much preferred cozy cottages and thick woods over churning pipes and glowing metal.

 

Usually, thoughts like this distracted him all the way to the grey stone of the capital. However, something pulled him out of his daydreams. A green glow, not too far from him.

 

It was an elemental. A fire elemental.

 

She was very young, younger than he had ever been. In her arms was a stuffed Gyftrot. She was holding the hand of a lizardlike man, who was describing what magma was to her. Her gaze moved from interestedly watching the man’s gestures to lock eyes with Grillby. It was only for a brief moment, but Grillby felt frozen there. She looked at him, seeming to see every part of his soul. A second longer she stared, then she turned away.

 

It was a long walk to the capitol.

 

\---

 

The castle was certainly large, larger than any other building Grillby knew of. It was, however, quite homey. There were plenty of places to sit and relax, and the walkways overlooking the vast capital were always pleasant. He enjoyed his visits here despite how far it was.

If he had his days straight (which wasn’t always the case), Helvetica should be guarding the throne room. He quickly headed that way, pleased that he was going to see an old friend again.

 

When he got to the throne room, he paused. There were children in the garden there, picking flowers and laughing. One looked like a miniature Toriel, with a tuft of hair rather than horns. Had they had a child? The other one…

 

Was a human.

 

A human.

 

Everything else fell away. It looked up at him, pink-cheeked and red-eyed, grin fading from its face. A human. A child, yes, but a human. Human children had razed entire villages, and now there was one in the castle. One with the prince. One there, with fistfulls of human strength and power.

 

Hellfire’s hand went to his sword. There was nothing there. The smell of dust and gore and decay was everywhere. Where was his sword? It didn’t matter, he’d killed plenty without it. He raised a hand, turning it white hot. He could hear screams, hear the death cries of friend and foe alike. One more human.

 

Suddenly, his arms were wrenched behind his back. “Grillby!” came a voice, one of the few he wholeheartedly trusted. “Grillby, it’s okay! They’re okay!” Helvetica turned him around and grabbed his face in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye. “Grillby, you’re here, in the castle. The year is 201X. You’re talking to me, Helvetica. You’re safe here. We’re in the throne room, the garden. There’s flowers blooming around us. Can you name some of them?”

 

“B-buttercups,” Grillby forced out. “Lavender. Honeysuckle.”

 

“Good. Tell me your name.”

 

“Grillby.”

 

“C’mon, Chara, let’s go,” whispered the prince to the human. They gave him that red-eyed stare once more, concerned and curious in equal measure, then followed him out of the room.

 

“Focus on me, Grillby, that’s it,” Helvetica said, drawing his attention once more. “Where do you work?”

 

“My restaurant.”

 

“Where is your restaurant?”

 

“S-snowdin.”

 

“What do you serve there?’

 

“Burgers. Fries. Pasta, sometimes. Soup. Drinks.”

 

“Who comes to eat there?”

 

Grillby took a deep breath. “I’m alright now, Helvetica. Thank you.”

 

She looked at him a moment longer. “Let’s go back to my house. I’m due to be relieved in an hour anyway, they’ll be fine.”

 

Back at Helvetica’s home, they sat at her kitchen table. She poured herself a drink, offering one to Grillby as well. He took it, wincing slightly at the strength.

 

“I did the same thing when I first saw them too,” she said, watching her drink swirl in the glass.

 

“Who were they?”

 

“I’m sure you’ve heard of Asriel.”

 

“Asriel?” Grillby cut in.

 

“Well, yes. Asgore and Toriel’s son? The heir to the throne?” Grillby shrugged a little helplessly. “Do you ever pay attention to news?” she asked with an exasperated sigh.

 

“I suppose I’m going to have to start.”

 

“The human, that’s Chara. They fell from the human world a few days ago. Asgore and Toriel are still trying to figure out how exactly to introduce them to the public. They’re excited though, they want to adopt the child. Keep calling them and Asriel ‘the hope of humans and monsters.’”

 

“They want to adopt a _human_?”

 

“They both remember a time before the war. They know better than most that humans aren’t all bad, and this one is just a scared child. The child doesn’t seem to have any desire to go home, but they aren’t talking much either. Cling to Asriel like none other. He’s the one who found them, after all.” She sighed, looking out the nearby window. “They’re good-hearted, but I don’t think they know it yet.”

 

It was a strange way of describing them. Grillby just nodded, too confused to ask for clarification. “Can you tell them I’m sorry? I would do it myself, but…” He trailed off.

 

“You don’t want to trigger another flashback?” He nodded gratefully. “I’ll be sure to let them know. Now, any reason for your visit?”

 

“It’d just been a while. I wanted to see how you were.”

 

“I’m doing alright. While you’re here though, there are some things that need doing. I want to officially discharge you from the Guard. If we don’t do that, you might accidentally get called to patrol, or if another, less friendly human falls down.”

 

“I keep my sword and armor ready should that happen.”

 

“I know you do, but I don’t want you to have to worry about it. You’ve made a new life for yourself, and I don’t want to take that from you.”

 

A weight he hadn’t even realized was there lifted. “Thank you.”

 

“Of course.” She stood and left the room for a moment, then returned with a piece of paper. “This is the discharge certificate. I sign it and Asgore signs it, then it’s official. You will no longer be an active member of the Royal Guard.”

 

They chatted for a while longer after that, Helvetica describing a new possible recruit.

 

“So this girl, she charges into the throne room with me right behind her - she won’t listen to me! But she’s just a kid, so I don’t really want to whack her with a bone, but I will if I have to, and then she marches _right up to Asgore_ and demands that he fight her! This tiny little kid, probably four foot nothing, hair all scruffed to hell and fins sticking a foot out from her head, with a tiny little makeshift spear, demanding that Asgore, king of all monsters, fight her!”

 

“And what did he do, make her tea?” Grillby said around laughter.

 

“No he- he actually fought her!” The image of the massive king fighting a tiny little fish girl sent Grillby doubled over in his seat, struggling to breathe around laughs. “The king fought her!”

 

“Did she win?”

 

“Of course not! He didn’t really fight back, just dodged around ‘til she tripped over her own feet, but then, _then_ he helped her right back up and said,” and now Helvetica was laughing too, “‘Excuse me, do you want to know how to beat me?’ Who even says something like that?” They both laughed for a moment longer, caught up in the thought of a fight between the gentle giant and a tiny firecracker.

 

“So, you think this girl would be a good fit for the guard?”

 

“Of course I do! She’s headstrong, brave, brash, and she’s going to get trained by Asgore. If she does well and plays her cards right, I could even see her replacing me some day.”

 

“Not any time soon, I’d hope.”

 

“Of course not. I’ll be around a long while - us skeletons are good at that.”

 

\---

 

Everything was going well. The bar was running smoothly, and Snowdin was peaceful.

 

Then Grillby received a letter.

 

 _Grillby,_ it began.

_Dad fell down. Passed a few days ago. We both knew it was coming, yeah? He was getting pretty old. Still, though, can’t say it doesn’t hurt._

 

Here, the handwriting grew shaky.

 

_I put a sealed phial of some of his dust inside the envelope. Scattered most of it on his favorite cooking pot, a little on me. You can put that on you if you want, or something you have he might like? Don’t know. Whatever you want._

_I know you might want to meet up, but uh. I need to be alone. For now, anyway. I just need a little time._

_I know dad thought of you like a second son. You’ll always be a brother to me, too. I’ll be here if you ever need anything._

_Gerson_

 

Grillby held the phial to his chest, bowed his head, and cried.

 

\---

 

Chara and Asriel brought hope to the entire underground. People saw harmony once again between humans and monsters, and even those that still hated humanity found it hard to hate the child that wore too-large sweaters and rode around on their adoptive father’s shoulder. The two children promised to be wonderful additions to the royal family, and would hopefully one day be wonderful leaders.

 

That was what people thought, anyway. Until they died.

 

It happened so suddenly. The underground had seemed to hold its breath as Chara got sicker and sicker, and then in one fell swoop, both they and Asriel were gone.

 

The effects of their loss were devastating. Not only did monsters lose their heirs, they lost all hope. Once again, humans had taken everything them. Monsters fell down in droves. Hundreds, from all around the underground.

 

One of those monsters was Helvetica.

 

\---

 

It was surreal seeing her so still. She rarely rested, slept even less. Now, sitting here, knowing it was only a matter of time until she went to dust…

 

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

 

“We don’t have much time,” Gaster said as he scribbled on a notepad. “I can make her last for a week, perhaps a week and a day at most.” With one more violent slash, he finished writing. “Monsters have never had the technology to revive someone after they’ve fallen. I will be the one to change that.”

 

Grillby looked up from his seat at Helvetica’s bedside. Her hand was cold in his. “How?” he asked, bleak. He had never heard of a way to fix falling down. The only thing you could do was make them comfortable and wait until they turned to dust.

 

There was ink smeared on Gaster’s lapel, along with traces of a strange, starkly red substance. It was clear he had slept in the clothes he was wearing, as well as done any number of dangerous experiments in them. “I believe I have found the secret to humanity’s pervading physical existence.”

 

“...What?”

 

Gaster sat on Helvetica’s bed, taking her other hand. His face was blank with lasting shock and exhaustion. “After the human died, its soul remained. I extracted it and contained it. I believe it has boundless potential. There was one substance that I believe is the reason that humans do not turn to dust, something like the embodiment of resolve. I’ve drawn some out and concentrated it as much as I could. I’ll do more tests, of course, but at least I have somewhere to start.” He pulled a phial out of his pocket. It was full of the same bright red substance on his lapel, and had the consistency of syrup. “It has to work. It has to.”

 

They sat together in silence for a moment, both knowing how desperate an effort it was. Relying on a strange liquid found in a human soul, one that neither of them knew anything about? The Gaster Grillby knew would have never risked it.

 

It was starting to seem that the Gaster Grillby knew had fallen with Helvetica.

 

“The last thing she did,” Gaster said suddenly, “was tuck the boys into bed. Got them all tucked in, patted them on the head. Then, she came in our room and just… Collapsed.” His eyes were vacant, staring into space. “I… I don’t want…” As it once did so long ago, his voice failed him. This time, there was no one there to translate.

 

He grabbed his notepad and made a few quick scribbles, then handed it to Grillby. In a messy scrawl, it read, “Go home, Grillby. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

 

That wasn’t the last time Grillby visited, however. He closed the restaurant for a few days to be able to watch her, as well as keep an eye on the children. They were growing up quickly, and weren’t nearly as rambunctious as they used to be. Despite all attempts to maintain cheer, they couldn’t help but grow somber as they walked past their mother’s room. Occasionally, one or both came in and sat with Grillby in his vigil, but neither could stand to stay for long.

 

Crayon drawings from Papyrus piled up on the side table as the hours passed. Sans told goofy jokes. When it grew quiet, Grillby simply sat. He wondered if he should talk, or tell stories, but any story he had to tell she already knew. Gaster, it seemed, couldn’t decide if he wanted to be with his wife or avoid her room entirely. When he wasn’t spending silent hours at her bedside, he was running tests and experiments with no breaks. Grillby wished he knew how to help, but he suspected only one person could do that.

 

“Humans,” Gaster once said, voice tight with controlled rage, “did this to us. Every single problem we have can be tied back to those creatures. I- I’m _disgusted_ that I must use one to save my wife. I will, I _have_ to find an alternate way to free us.”

 

“How? I thought you said that because humans formed the barrier, humans would have to break it.”

 

"Following the rules of magic has brought us no closer to freedom," Gaster muttered, almost to himself. His fingers tapped slowly. "So perhaps we will have to break a few rules."

 

"How do you plan to do that?"

 

Gaster grinned at him, though it looked more like a snarl. "I will simply use the tools that are available to me."

 

Feet pattered away outside. At least one of the children had been listening, maybe both. Grillby could only hope that whatever Gaster did, they would be safe.

 

He thought things couldn’t get worse. Then, another human fell.

 

It started as whispers. Most people had only a vague idea what humans looked like, and a mere handful had seen one themselves. Yet, when a small creature had reached Hotland with more than a few piles of dust behind it, many had realized what had happened.

 

It was wearing a costume cowboy hat, people said, and carrying a gun. A surreally childish outfit for one with such a deadly weapon.

 

Grillby locked the door to the bar. He pulled his knees up to his chest. He closed his eyes.

 

Monsters were dying by a human’s hands once more, and he couldn’t bring himself to walk out to try and face the creature.

 

Gerson, he later heard, had delivered the killing blow. People had started calling him “The Hammer of Justice.” It hurt in a strange way to know that his friend had that name, a name created on the pain he inflicted on others. It was a heavy burden.

 

Once, he tried to visit Gerson. When was the last time he had? Before Darwyn’s death, probably? Time was too fuzzy for him to tell.

 

The door was shut and bolted. A sign on it simply read “Closed until further notice.” No amount of knocking got an answer, but that didn’t stop Grillby from trying. Ten, twenty minutes he waited, but there was no response. Finally, he sighed. He wanted Gerson to know he wasn’t alone, but he also didn’t want to force his company. It was with a heavy core that he turned from Gerson’s door and walked away.

 

It wasn’t until he was halfway there when he realized he was walking to Helvetica’s home. A pointless endeavor, really. What comfort could he find there? He continued walking anyway. Maybe sitting at her bedside would calm him, and he could see if Gaster had made any progress.

 

His arrival, however, did not seem to be welcome. He let himself in just as he had become accustomed to over the past week, only to be stopped by Gaster when he was mere feet inside.

 

“Grillby. You- leave, you need to go, you-” Gaster muttered, attempting to shove Grillby back outside. There was a heavy crack in his face.

 

Being a bit taller and much broader than Gaster, it was easy for Grillby to stay unmoved. “What’s going on, is everything alright?”

 

“Just- I can fix this I’ll fix it just- just g-go leave I’ll…” Gaster’s pushing slowed until he stilled. “I… I’ll fix it.” His words were almost a whisper, like he was trying to convince himself. “I’ll fix it,” he said one last hoarse time.

 

“What do you have to fix?” Grillby asked, concerned. His voice was low and soft, like how you’d talk to a spooked animal.

 

Gaster sank into a nearby chair, staring a hole in the floor. “She… The essence from the human soul, it…”

 

“It what?”

 

He looked up. His eyes were haunted. “I didn’t dilute it enough. It was concentrated, far too concentrated. She woke, and even spoke to me for a short while. After only minutes, however, she… melted. Became formless. As if the magic that built her being became disoriented, didn’t know what form to take. She can appear to vanish, as well. I believe it is the dust forming her body scattering in the air so thin that you can hardly see it. Her magic and the pure resolve from the human soul keep her together, and she can reform into a vague, tall shape. She cannot speak or otherwise communicate. I have no idea if she can understand what I say.

 

“She still tucks the children into bed every night,” He finished with a bitter smile.

 

Grillby didn’t know how to respond. Falling down, he could comprehend. But this nightmarish creature? What was there to say?

 

“May I see her?” he finally managed.

 

“Perhaps. She only shows herself sometimes. No harm in trying, I suppose.”

 

As they walked, Gaster described the situation further. “She watches the boys play sometimes. Papyrus attempts to give her action figures or wrap blankets around her, but she doesn’t quite interact with either. She’ll hold them, but doesn’t do anything with them. Sans tells her jokes. Her form shakes and makes an odd noise, but I’m not sure if it’s in direct response to the jokes or she can only understand that she’s being spoken to. She’ll stand by the door sometimes, as if she wants to leave, but obviously I can’t let that happen.” He sighed. “I’ll fix this.”

 

There was nothing to say to that. Grillby wasn’t sure it could be done.

 

The house was subdued, even more so than usual. There was no clack of bone feet, no quiet noises from the machines normally used to monitor Helvetica. It seemed abandoned, as if no one lived there.

 

“Where are the boys?” asked Grillby.

 

“Busy.”

 

“Oh?”

 

There was no response. It seemed that was all he would be getting.

 

All the lights in the living room were out. Papyrus’s action figures were scattered about. One’s head had caved in on the left side, perhaps from being stepped on. Curtains fluttered in the air conditioning. Dust had collected on shelves and the toys, and it was clear the carpet hadn’t been vacuumed in a long while. It felt lonely, in a strange way.

 

“Where is she?”

 

“It depends. She shows up randomly. She might not come at all.”

 

Gaster sat heavily on the couch, sending up a small puff of dust from the fabric. Grillby sat next to him. The light from his fire made the crack on Gaster’s face seem even darker, like a streak of void carved through his face.

 

“May I ask about the…?” Grillby started, gesturing at his own face.

 

Gaster huffed a laugh. “The experiments are being difficult. It’s as if they’re fighting against me.”

 

“Maybe you should try telling them it’s for a good cause,” Grillby replied, a weak attempt at a joke.

 

“Believe me,” Gaster said bluntly. “I am. I tell them it’s to save her, and to break the barrier, and I have to learn all the properties of the human soul and what it can do to monsters in order to do those things. They just won’t _listen._ ”

 

That was odd. He wasn’t actually talking to his experiments, was he? Grillby wasn’t sure how to respond. He shifted in his seat.

 

There was silence for a moment. Normally, they’d be chatting, discussing Gaster’s experiments and what breakthroughs he’d made recently. For some reason, today, the words wouldn’t come. Gaster didn’t seem to mind. He was glaring into empty space, mind likely racing with all kinds of equations and scientific things. Grillby used to occasionally wonder what it was like in Gaster’s head; all the knowledge and resolve and dedication. He was not wondering what it was like tonight. He didn’t want to know.

 

“How long does it normally take for her to show up?”

 

“It depends,” Gaster said without really focusing on the conversation. “Some days she spends floating around the house, sitting with the boys, or by me in the lab. Other days she’s nowhere to be found. I’ve sealed all the windows and doors, and the vents have filters that should keep out all but airflow, so she’s still in the house. She just occasionally chooses not to show herself. I have no idea what causes that from one day to the next, and it isn’t as if she could tell me.”

 

His brows drew in slightly, as if in wonder. “I don’t know if she knows who I am anymore.”

 

They went silent again. The air was musty.

 

With no warning, a howling noise came from the basement. Grillby’s heart was in his throat as he lept to his feet, fire blazing in his fists and licking at the sleeves of his clean button down.

 

“What in the hell is that?!”

 

“Blast,” Gaster muttered. The howl died down, only to start back up again. Grillby had heard noises like this before: the cries of one hurting, angry, and very, very afraid. “I need to go quiet that down.”

 

Grillby whirled to face him. “Are you saying that’s one of _your experiments?_ ”

 

Affront was written all over Gaster’s face. He drew himself up, coldly furious. “I must learn more about how the human essence affects monsters. That information must be obtained at any cost and I will do whatever it takes; it could save all monsters from falling down to anything but age. It could be a lead to breaking the barrier! How _dare_ you presume to-”

 

Something suddenly struck Grillby. “Papyrus. Sans. Where are they?”

 

“Helping me save their mother,” spat Gaster.

 

Rage boiled in his chest. He pushed past Gaster and stormed further into the house. “Where are you keeping them?”

 

“You have _no_ right to-”

 

“Your _sons_! Where are you-”

 

“How dare you think you can-”

 

“Live experimentation on your _children_! What would Helvetica think?!”

 

Grillby barely got the words out before Gaster reacted. With a roar of rage, he thrust his hand forward and curled his fingers. A deadly cold feeling filled Grillby’s chest. His limbs felt slow and sluggish. He had little time to process this, however, before Gaster swept his hand to the side. With a jerk, Grillby went flying and crashed into the far wall.

 

He didn’t wait, leaping to his feet and charging. He could process the emotional consequences of all this later, but right now it was time to rely on instinct and a lifetime of battle.

 

Gaster dodged to the side, much faster than Grillby expected. He reached out and wrapped Grillby in the same horrible cold, this time tossing him against the ceiling and letting him crash against the floor. He fell hard on his wrist, but continued to roll with the fall through the pain.

 

How could he fight this? He couldn’t dodge it, couldn’t even see it. All he could do was attempt to survive. It was with a sudden frightening clarity he realized that Gaster may very well try to kill him.

 

Before he even managed to find his balance again, Gaster had wrapped that cold grip around his soul.

 

Tossed against the ceiling, smacking his head. “How _dare_ you get in the way!”

 

Falling, interrupted to be thrown against the far wall. Hit his shoulder. “This is for the good of monsterkind!”

 

Thrown against the floor. Attempt to get to all fours before grabbed again. “This is for _her!_ They should be thankful! They should be begging me for this opportunity!”

 

Dragged close. Face to face with Gaster. “I could kill you. Easily. It wouldn’t be too difficult to cover it up. I could do it. But I won’t.”

 

Gaster’s chest was heaving and his eyes were wild with manic determination. “This is for her. I thought you of all people would understand that.” With one more swipe of his hand, Grillby crashed against the door, cracking his head on the doorframe. He slid downwards, dazed at both the brutality of the attack and the harsh change in his friend.

 

“You won’t return if you want to keep your life. I won’t be so generous next time.” Gaster’s face was freezing cold, as if he was looking at a human rather than his wife’s closest friend. “Now,” he spat, “get out of my sight.”

 

He swept back into the gloomy dark of the house, not bothering to watch if Grillby left.

 

It was minutes before Grillby stood up. He was trying to think of a solution, some way to fix this, but coming up blank. Fighting would be a waste, as he was sure he couldn’t beat Gaster. Not when he had that strange magic.

 

But Gaster was keeping his children in his lab, doing who knew what. Sans was only a teenager, Papyrus wasn’t even that. Gaster’s cruelty couldn’t continue, even if he was doing this for a more noble end. He couldn’t. Grillby had to stop it. He would…

 

He didn’t know. He had no idea what to do. Perhaps he could go to Asgore, but what if Asgore knew? It didn’t seem like something the king would approve, but he’d thought the same of Gaster. Asgore had already declared war on humanity and demanded the death of any others that fell; who knew what other, less public orders had been made?

 

His chest ached and he wanted to cry. What could he do?

 

The next days (weeks? longer?) passed in a haze. Making food had become muscle memory. It was easy to go through the motions, while his mind rapidly shifted from racing thoughts to cottony fog. He drifted from place to place in an attempt to focus, to really feel something. Nothing worked.

 

One possibility showed up one day while he was disinterestedly pawing through the dump. Such was something to do on empty days that dwindled into static. A bottle, full of amber liquid he had no name for. Looking closely, he thought the same drink might've been given to him while visiting Helvetica sometime before, but there wasn't really anyway to tell without tasting it. It wasn't like a tiny taste would kill him. Probably.

 

It burned. God, how it blazed down his throat, and he could see his fire change color in his watery reflection. The acid of it reminded him of Snowdin's freezing air: uncomfortable, even painful, but he relished it. It made him feel alive.

 

He took the bottle home. It sat comfortably in his hand, like the grip of his sword had.

  

He took cautious sips of the liquid that slowly morphed into careless swallows as he walked, and he could feel himself getting lightheaded. That was new. He stumbled over his own feet and almost tripped into a puddle of cold water, laughing all the while. If he landed there and just didn't get up, that'd be it. The great General _Hellfire_ , killer of hundreds of humans, a war hero, struck down by a pool of water. Wasn't it just so _funny?_ He laughed, laughed and laughed as he stumbled home, and his hands almost broke the neck of the bottle.

 

He didn't remember his home being this difficult to navigate. His feet felt leaden, and his face was numb. He was cautiously shuffling to his bed, focused on every footstep, when yellowed paper on the desk caught his eye. 

 

It was the letter. The one Cyprus had written him, the one he had gotten too late.

 

Too late because of humans. Too late because Cyprus had to go and be a _goddamn_ hero, and now they were dead. They were dead, and so was everyone else.

 

Why had they left him alone? Rage filled him, at them for leaving him, at humanity for killing them, at himself for not trying harder to keep them safe. with one broad, clunky motion, he gripped his desk chair and smashed it against the wall, sending wood chips flying. Splinters dug into his fingers before burning to cinders. The rest of it smoldered in his hands before he tossed it away and grabbed the desk itself, throwing it forcefully on side and letting it slam against the floor. A glass cup shattered and papers spiraled in the air, some catching on his sparks and falling to ash.

 

A sweep of his hands, and books flew off their shelves. He was shouting, but he didn't know what or at whom. Words poured out of him like blood, useless to try and staunch. He didn't even comprehend his own speech, but the words just kept coming.

 

The letter. He snatched it from the air and let it catch in the heat of his hands, watching each precious word burn away to dust. Something inside him felt sickly satisfied, like this was some kind of revenge. After a moment, it hit him.

 

What had he done?

 

That was all he had left of Cyprus, what the _hell_ was wrong with him? Crumbling to the floor, he held the remains of the letter in trembling hands. What had he _done?_

 

He broke down. Deep, heaving wails, like a child. It wasn't _fair_. He missed Cyprus, and Helvetica, and Wind, and Darwyn. He wanted them _back_. Steam filled the room as he sobbed, clutching the ashes to his chest. It wasn't _fair_ that they were all gone, and he was living uselessly, numb, wandering through life without any goal. They all had so much ahead of them. Cyprus deserved to build a new life, Helvetica had two children and a husband who needed her, Wind hadn't even had a _chance_ before being killed by one of them. Even Darwyn, who had already lived so long, deserved more time with Gerson. What did Hellfire have to live for? Why had he been given this chance, this meaningless opportunity? All he did was wander from place to place, purposeless without something to kill. That was all he was: a reaper, an embodiment of death and the hate of monsters and humans. That was all he brought to the world: suffering and destruction.

 

He wanted laugh at his old self, the one who felt a minuscule twitch of guilt and thought it astronomical. He was drowning in guilt and choking on regrets, black bile and blood and hate. It gripped his limbs and sank into his chest, closing in a tight fist around his core.

 

Memories flicked through his head faster than he could process. Even the most mundane of events felt exponentially huge, even the most pleasant of them now permeated with grief and loss.

 

There he sat for hours, drifting from memories, to hate, to finally a static, black emptiness. That'd been happening more and more lately.

 

It was strange. He’d be hyper-aware of the plates and utensils in his hands, wondering if the boys were alright and if Helvetica was alright and if Gaster was alright and if there was anything he could do and if he should have done something earlier and it was all collecting and building like a tidal wave to drown him and crashing over him and it was so much too much and then he’d blink and a week had passed. Time slipped through his fingers like sand, a feeling he’d become uncomfortably used to.

 

Humans fell. Humans killed, or they didn’t. Humans died. How many souls had they collected at this point? Three? Four? He’d no idea.

 

The queen had vanished. The king was alone. He and Gaster, the grieving husbands who’d lashed out, who could only be truly stopped by the ones that had left them.

 

Grillby wanted to visit Helvetica. He wanted to see her again. He wanted-

 

He stopped cold. A strange energy seemed to ripple through the air.

 

What had he been thinking about?

 

There was someone he needed to visit. Someone he missed. The name- her name?- was slipping away.

 

It started with… an H? No, a J. And her husband was… was…

 

Gaster. Helvetica. Sans. Papyrus.

 

The names ran through his mind once more, and they were gone.

 

\---

 

Things cleared up after that. He knew he’d been in a strange slump, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember why. Something to do with… The old royal scientist? He couldn’t remember anything about them, but part of him was sure. There was something he needed to do there, someone that he needed to visit. It was urgent, wasn’t it? Yes, he was sure, there was something very important he had to do. He had to… had to…

 

Like water on a hot stove, the thought dissolved.

 

Was he zoned out again? He huffed exasperatedly to himself, and went back to washing dishes. Seemed like that was happening more and more lately.

 

It helped though, that Snowdin had changed slightly. It was easier to focus when listening to new gossip about the two new people that’d moved into town. Two skeletons, apparently, a rare race. They’d chosen the truly hideous fixer-upper across the street, a large but rickety wooden thing. It wasn’t until a few days later, however, that they ended up at his bar.

 

The cold wind continued to wrap its icy hand around his new customers as they stepped inside. Flakes of snow fluttered in after them as the taller of the two shut the door, and the soft warmth that the restaurant was known for quickly refilled the space. Together, they sat down at the bar.

 

Grillby waited patiently, polishing a glass. He’d never ended up printing menus, honestly. People ordered what they were hungry for, and he could make it or he couldn’t. One of them slid a gloved finger across the bar, rubbing his fingertip and thumb together with a slightly nauseated face. Well, he could think what he liked, Grillby knew that bars with the best food had a thin layer of grease on every surface. Also, it was difficult to clean. Sue him.

 

“Can I get a burger and fries?” asked the other one. He had bandages taped around one eye. “Whaddaya want, bro?”

 

“Whatever’s not greasy,” the first muttered. “Porridge? With fruit?”

 

Grillby nodded. He turned to go back into the kitchen, when something stopped him.

 

“Do I… know you two?” he asked.

 

The one in gloves looked at his brother, who, strangely, seemed wary, but with a touch of hope. It was an odd expression. “I dunno, maybe you met our parents?”

 

Grillby looked at them a moment longer. He felt like he was right on the precipice of something. It was right _there_ , he was certain. If he just had a moment to think, he could place why this man and his brother felt so damn familiar.

 

The moment passed. The feeling faded. “Sorry, I must have been confused. Never mind.”

 

The older brother looked crestfallen for the briefest second, and his face smoothed into pleasant neutrality. The younger fiddled with his gloves, staring into his lap. Grillby couldn’t see his face.

 

“Ah, don’t worry about it. The name’s Sans, and this is my brother Papyrus. We’re just gettin’ a feel for all the _hotspots_ in town, ya know?”

 

“I can’t take you anywhere,” Papyrus groaned as he clunked his forehead onto the the bar. Grillby seconded the sentiment.

 

“...That was terrible.”

 

Sans spread his hands with a grin. “Hey, no need to get _fired_ up about a joke.”

 

“...I’m going to go make your food now.”

 

“Ha, fair enough.”

 

Sans became a regular at Grillby’s as time passed, along with the usual crowd. Grillby was sure he had heard every pun relating to dogs and bones, but for some reason he never got tired of it. It was nice to listen to Sans tell ridiculous stories. Some nights there were fewer jokes and more grim smiles and tight words, but still Grillby listened. He was quite good at that. As time passed, Sans became less of a customer and more of a friend. He told him as much one night, when everyone had left; not an unusual situation for them, as Sans was often the last person there.

 

“It’s nice,” Grillby remarked while stacking chairs, “to have a friend with no connection to the war. Gerson will always be a brother to me, but that pain is still there. You aren’t connected at all.” He grimaced at his own rambling. “Sorry, I’m not sure where I’m going with this.”

 

Sans waved a hand. “Aw, you’re alright. Not like I haven’t been long-winded with you before.” There was something off, though. Grillby was quite good at reading Sans’s expressions; for some reason it came easily to him despite the fact that skeletal emotion was far more subtle than other monsters’. He looked sad.

 

Grillby straightened. “Is everything alright, Sans?”

 

“Heh, yeah. Just kinda sad that all your other friends are connected to all that mess.”

 

“Well,” Grillby sighed, “It’s really just Gerson now. There was someone else, I’m sure of it, but…”

 

“...But?”

 

“Honestly? I don’t know. I can’t for the life of me remember anything.” He stared off, certain if he just had some time he could figure this out. It was right there, he just needed to concentrate. He could remember. He could.

 

“...Buddy?” Sans said suddenly. He was next to Grillby now, rather than sitting on the bar stool. How long had it been? “You okay?”

 

“Yes, sorry. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

 

Sans gave him a searching look, but didn’t seem to see what he wanted. “Alright. If you’re sure.” A pause. “Well, I gotta head home. Papyrus is gonna sleep tonight, so I gotta read him a bedtime story.” He winked. “Tonight’s pick is Theoretical Puzzle-Making for Complex Minds.”

 

“An enthralling read, I’m sure.”

 

“Hey, I’m just readin’ what Papyrus picked.”

 

“Try not to fall asleep before he does.”

 

“Not like it’d be the first time.”

 

Grillby laughed. “I am not at all surprised. Hurry up, then. I don’t want Papyrus after me if you’re late.”

 

“Aw, he won’t have time for that. Apparently Undyne’s giving him super secret special Royal Guard training.” Sans winked.

 

“Ah, of course. Good night, Sans.”

 

“Night, Grillbz.”

 

Grillbz. That reminded him of Darwyn’s suggestions of names. It was a bittersweet thought.

 

The door chimed as Sans left, leaving Grillby alone at the bar. The chatter of regulars that normally filled the air was replaced with a gentle quiet, and the air was warm. His light shone off the heavy wood and brick in the room, reflecting off bottles and glasses. Outside it was dark, and cold, but here felt safe.

 

He wondered if the others would like it as he headed towards the back. Darwyn had seen this place built, had been with him through all of it. Cyprus had always like his cooking. Wind probably had, though she never had said so. The other elementals, the same.

 

He tried to imagine what all of them there with him would be like. Darwyn in the kitchen with him, the two of them cooking together like they had so long before. The smell of all the wonderful things they could make together, things that neither of them had tried, things that Darwyn had never had time to teach Grillby or Grillby had learned after Darwyn had passed, would waft from the kitchen into the main room of the bar. Gerson would watch, making jokes with the two of them. He wouldn’t have to worry about the weight of his hammer there with them.

 

Wind and Cyprus in a booth together. Cyprus would say something well-meaning and abrasive because that was how they were, and Wind would say something kind and gentle because that was how she was. Maybe, after so long out of the war, she’d make a joke. Say something teasing. Cyprus, of course, would respond in kind. They could banter back and forth for ages, easily matched in wit and stubbornness. It would all be in fun, and they’d break down into laughs after not too long.

 

Storm, Rock, Ice, and Water could sit at the table where the dogs from the Guard normally would sit. Maybe Grillby could teach them how to play poker. He wondered if any of them would count cards. He wondered if they’d choose different names, or if they’d wear the name of an elemental with pride. He wondered what they would have chosen to do with nothing to fight. Would Storm have dedicated her life to reading and study, and become a sort of scholar? Would Rock work in the CORE, and study the intricacies of the puzzles there? Ice, perhaps a shopkeeper? Selling clothing or food or toys or books, interacting with people that came through, ready with the latest gossip for anyone who asked? Water, a healer? She had always been the most empathetic of them, healing magic probably would have come easy to her if she had been given the chance to try.

 

For a moment, one more person came to him. A skeleton woman, who would be seated at the bar. He did not know her name. She was tall and thin, and had an old crack above her right eye socket. She wore a fiercely proud smile. Though Grillby did not know her, something about the thought of her made him feel safe. It was nice.

 

Grillby turned away from the bar, pulled out of his fantasies. In his head, he put together a list of things he needed to order to keep the bar stocked. Another part of him, however, held onto the wonderful image of all his friends, together and safe. Thinking about it made his chest ache, but still he held on. The bittersweetness of it was cathartic, and he wasn’t going to let go. With that warm image in his head, he went through the door to go to his bedroom.

 

The bar went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> summer was rough. starting college is hard. this took so long, but is also very long to make up for it (43 pages, over 13k words). thank u so much for ur patience i love u guys
> 
> That being said, wow. It's over. This is the first fic I've ever attempted at this length, so it being finished is honestly surreal. Thank you so, so much for sticking with me throughout it. Thank you especially to Grayson and Leigh for beta'ing this chapter, and helping make sure everything made sense. 
> 
> I can't believe I wrote the first chapter of this on a whim a little over a year ago. Reading back over, I think I've improved quite a bit (I may even go back and rewrite the first couple chapters because of that). It's nice to finally have done something like this, because I've proven to myself I can do it. I have only you all to thank for the support and encouragement that's carried me through.
> 
> I hope I brought everything to a close in a satisfactory way. Again, thank you all for everything.
> 
> Good night.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [inscription's on one's armour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12250449) by [TheMaskedMun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMaskedMun/pseuds/TheMaskedMun)




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